In Which Howl Gets to Sophie's Heart
by SweetCarnation
Summary: Howl's ways to show his love for Sophie. Book/Movie verse. "And it was in the depths of night, when the Royal Wizard held his wife tightly to him, her back pressed intimately against his chest and his nose nuzzling her flamboyant (and natural!) red-gold hair, arms sliding around her waist and legs bending behind hers, that Howl felt the most safe, the most complete." Complete!
1. A Hug From Behind

**Just had a little plunny springing from my facebook :P Story inspired by my recent fall-in-love-with-HMC-again (especially since I've recently read the book online) and the picture 12 Ways To Get To A Girl's Heart. By the way, in my mind, Miss Angorian looks like Nico Robin in the anime (One Piece :D)**

**Disclaimer: I no own, me alien from this planet, me only enjoy Diana Wynne Jones's genius and Hayao Miyazaki's greatness. Over.**

**Enjoy this, and more to come soon **

**In Which Howl Gets to Sophie's Heart **

**Chapter 1: A Hug From Behind**

It was not that Sophie disliked silence; in fact, she pretty much loved it when she was still a little gray mouse, hiding behind a dull life of hats and needles. But recently, thanks to a not-heart-eating and not so horrible wizard, the young flame-haired woman learned to hold herself with more confidence, to not be afraid of speaking her mind and acting on impulse, and more importantly, she learned how to love.

During her time as Grandma Sophie, the eldest of three felt more confident, since as an old woman, she had nothing to lose. She didn't have to carry the burden of society and its pointless legend about the eldest of three applying only to girls (never boys), if they were to seek out a more adventurous life. She didn't have to take care of relationship with others, or try to make her physical appearance that outstanding, always in competition with the young (and sometimes not so-young) Ingarian women who clothed themselves in the finest and most stylish dresses, up to date.

Being old, as Sophie believed, was more natural for her than being young. To be free of judgement, to be able to do and speak as she desired, this curse, in fact, was more to Sophie's benefit than misfortune. Of course, during the first few days, it was weird for the former hatter to move around and not expect a creaking from some knuckles joint, or her body to be aching and tired so easily, but as the times went, so did Sophie's hesitancy, and pretty soon, she could act around with the energy and mind of her eighteen years old self in her ninety years or so old body, cleaning the fiends (spiders) from Howl's castle and dusting the inch-thick speck covering the floors and even walls without minding her more fragile constitution.

When Sophie stayed in Howl's castle, she didn't feel the need to protect herself, as she believed whole-heartedly (a feat Howl wasn't able to do literally until recently) that the horrible wizard only attacked young, pretty women, courting them for a while to make them fall head over heels in love with him, and then dumping them unceremoniously when he deemed they got a little too…clingy and pushy and demanding. But slowly, she began overlooking his flaws (such as his vanity or his quite annoying tendency to slither outer, his way of not being pinned down to anything), and dear young Sophie Hatter fell in love with the most despicable man of Ingary (well, despicable in angry Aunts' eyes, Aunts armed with their words and blabbering).

Quite aware of the controversy her feelings brought, Sophie desperately pushed back any sorts of softness towards the charming wizard, cutting up his suits as a way to prove herself she successfully got rid of feelings that clearly did not exist. Beyond her comprehension, there was another reason Sophie _did_ stay in the moving castle, a reason that did not concern her worry about Michael if he were to be left alone again, or her faithful loyalty to the bargain she struck with Calcifer.

This cause, which we just spoke of, was her heart's desire to stay near Howl.

Sophie did try to run away, as much as it pained her to leave Calcifer linked to the Horrible Howl with a contract that did 'neither of them good', but only because she became aware that the feelings she put so much efforts and time into squeezing and forgetting them. Unfortunately for her, and to her heart's delight, at that time, when she met Howl's eyes for the first time, looking uncharacteristically happy to see her and sparkling with a mischievous twinkle which spoke promises of happiness, Sophie realized that _she_, of all people in Ingary, was slithering out of her own sentiments.

For days, the eldest Hatter could not get Howl's brilliant, and yet somewhat glassy-looking, sharp blue (with a tint of turquoise in them, she remembered with reluctance and hesitation) eyes out of her mind. Those mysterious orbs, speaking of danger and thrill, and yet somehow always bending to stick to a ridiculous face, mimicking expressions and molding them to penetrate her soul and bring out the compassion Sophie willingly leashed exactly for this purpose, this reason of not being caught into the trap Howl was setting for her.

And the more she thought, the more Sophie realized the extent of the love she bore for Howl, much to her dismay. She tried everything to get her mind off his looks, his personality and his vanity, but after long, the old woman with a young girl's spirit could no longer deny it.

She was in love with the most horrible man, wizard, ever.

And she would never be loved back.

This previous sentence, representing all of Sophie's new doubts and fears, wouldn't have come back again at full force, almost breaking down the old granny, if it weren't for this pretty young woman, with olive eyes and chocolate skin, whose voice was terribly throbbing, like your heart never-ceasing to pound loudly in your ears, or her form quite voluptuous to catch the attention of many men. If it weren't for Lily Angorian, maybe Sophie's self-doubts wouldn't have hurt her so badly, cutting up the fragile pieces of a heart that had an attack quite recently.

She didn't need to know Howl that much to understand what was happening. Even if Sophie was quite introverted in the hat shop, she still recognized the sign of his affections; this time concentrating on Miss Angorian. Sophie knew that as much she could love Howl, even if he were to not consider her feelings (as he was quite insensible, his chest gaping with the huge hole the absence of his heart left), he would focus on this woman, this Lily Angorian.

And this was the reason Sophie tried to push back her feelings, down into the darkness and secrecy of her mind, to never let them out in the open ever again.

But sometimes, the heart had its reason, its purpose, and no one could get in its way.

For Sophie, even in this period of sadness, still helped out Horrible (not-so-horrible) Howl with the mourning of his old teacher, still cared for the castle and its inhabitants: still cared for him, as much as she did when she uncovered the secret feelings she harbored (and sometimes wanted out of her life).

She even went as far as to make the most rash and stupid decision of her life; going directly to the Waste to save Lily Angorian. Because Sophie, even if she had not a chance to be loved back, wanted Howl to feel this warmth, to learn how it was to be in love and be loved in return, to be happy, as much as happy as he could get in this country where almost no one truly understood Howl's slithering ways, and to live, live long, hard, passionately, without regretting anything and without having sadness filling up this hole, the left part of his chest, just under a rippling pectoral, under a sturdy rib, where nothing awaited, where no muscle beat. Where no heart stood for love.

Sophie wanted his happiness more than her own.

And so, with the sturdiest of the resolves, she went straight into the Witch's purposely obvious trap to save Howl's current love interest. Sophie was ready to fight, to give everything she had, but she wasn't prepared to face Howl's unshaven face and his wild hair. She wasn't prepared to accept it if he was to say he was in love.

She wasn't prepared to receive his roundabout confession.

It was a shock for her, the little gray mouse, the old bat, the one-force chaos of a woman who spoke her mind, who rushed head first into any kind of situation, who gave freely kindness and help to anyone who needed compassion, to be loved back by this man who was a vain slitherer-outer, who complained more than the best of the drama queens, who threw tantrums like a child and yet, _who was heartless._

It was almost like a miracle in itself. Ironic, how the heartless man found himself so passionately in love with this woman with the spirit of a eighteen years old, gold-haired and lovely, more pretty than any flower or woman in Ingary. It was weird, exhausting even, especially since they just finished their fight against the Witch of the Waste, freeing Calcifer and boosting his life span with another thousand years, closing Howl's chest with the missing part of his soul, his heart, and turning Sophie back into her pretty young self, radiating from confidence and love.

And she was a sight to behold.

But sometimes, even a flower doubted her worth, her beauty. Sometimes, it thought that it was way more plain and boring than the other wild flowers of the field surrounding her. But just like the Little Prince who took care of his rose, nurturing her, caring for her, protecting her against perils, giving her once more the strength and hope to shine through.

Just like Howl did to Sophie.

And it was in the depths of night, when the Royal Wizard held his wife tightly to him, her back pressed intimately against his chest and his nose nuzzling her flamboyant (and natural!) red-gold hair, arms sliding around her waist and legs bending behind hers, that Howl felt the most safe, the most complete. And when his pretty wife woke up in the mornings, cradled gently by her husband, clinging to her like a child holding his teddy bear or like the Little Prince hugging the crystal protecting his rose, Sophie knew that now, she was the most important person in Howl's life.

And this warmed both their hearts greatly.

* * *

_Alright, done with one, eleven to go. :)_

_I'll try to post one tomorrow, but my goal is to finish this twelve chaptered story before the end of my Semaine de Relâche (how do you say that in English anyways?). Wish me luck and reviews are love._

_Oh and also, happy greatly belated Valentine's day. Hope you have a nice time reading this. :)_

_'Melia, signing out, for now... :P_


	2. Holding Hands

**A huge thanks to MeatAngel for your review and fav and to Brushtail42 for your fav, more on the way **

**Just finished Ni No Kuni, so AWESOOOOOME AND SAAAAAD, WAHHHH, I L-O-V-E that game. I just…just…I adore it! So go watch a let's play on youtube or buy it, it's worth every minute and penny you spend on it. **

**Disclaimer: Nothing to own here, because I'm no movie-maker Hayao Miyazaki or the late and wonderful Miss Jones.**

**In Which Howl Gets to Sophie's Heart**

**Chapter 2: Holding Hands **

Gracia Marzel was your typical Ingarian rich (almost spoiled) young woman. Every morning, she woke up in the most comfortable bed, made out of swan's feather. She would don her silky turquoise gown, which ends flared out in a swirls of ribbons, which sleeves puffed out in the way of a royal gown, and which bodice split in two just below the chest to uncover a pink-flowered chiffon tissue underneath, the pattern oddly resembling the kimonos of the faraway land of Jyapon.

After ten minutes of hard work to slip on the voluptuous dress, Gracia would ask her lady-in-waiting, Ruth, to fashion her hair into the most elegant and twisted style, the newest mode being a bun with tender strands escaping the harsh hair tie used to tame Gracia's wild morning mane. After countless years of treatment, the young Marzel mistress learned how to bypass the pain brought forth by Ruth's combing, and instead, she sipped her morning tea, French toast and honey vinaigrette accompanying the simple meal, meant to feed a girl's delicate constitution without bringing up too much weight. If you asked any slim girl of Ingary, they'd all tell you the old rhyme invented by a spoiled princess, long ago; "Morning tea makes you skinny, afternoon honey makes you glowy, and evening toast, you're not hungry."

Gracia Marzel, after being fed and prepped up to face the day, bid goodbye to her mother, and went to meet her friends at Césari's for another afternoon full of the newest gossip concerning Howl, charming men, and the upcoming May Day.

As usual, the café was a place bubbling with energy and enthusiasm. People, mainly men in their 20s, were rounding around the counter to ask Lettie a favor, some only wishing they could get their pastries, and others buying their time to catch a glimpse of the second youngest Hatter, who was known as 'Césari's beauty'. Meanwhile, the ladies and children all sat in the dining hall around round tables, chatting fervently in the ladies' case and running or playing hide-and-seek in the children's case.

As for Gracia, she spent quite a while observing the bustling business, sitting by a tall stained glass serving as a window. She began tapping her feet against the ground, sign of impatience bubbling up in her, when she finally caught sight of her friends, who just entered the place, their fans waved energetically to relieve them of the mixed smells of pastry, crowds and heat (since yes, if you can almost taste the heat, you can almost smell it too).

They sat down by Gracia's side, and all ordered a hazel-choco cake, a popular mellow pastry sprinkled with confetti, the middle composed of four layers altering between sweet chocolate and tasty hazelnut, and which supposedly was excellent if you kept watch of your weight, a most important feat in a young Ingarian woman.

Waiting for the young waiter, who didn't look half-bad, the ladies began chattering and complaining about how strict their fathers were, how no one could understand how much stressed was applied and wounded a young girl's freedom and soul, and of course, the conversation quickly turned to a more frivolous and girlish subject, _men._

Excuse me, I meant _man._

Man, as in Howl Pendragon.

It was no secret for Ingary's married and unmarried female population, Howl Pendragon (or Jenkins, as he went in Porthaven) was a candy to the eye. Dark raven hair, with reflects of navy blue shining brightly in the sun, framing a perfectly molded and sculpted face, worthy of the most exquisite Greek gods, some strands falling just above magnificent emerald eyes, making its namesake in color green with jealousy. His nose was finely sculpted, and rested just above a mouth, where the sweetest of words and serenade escaped in a tenor voice, smooth and experienced, which could make any woman faint in delight.

Before the war ended, and even though Howl was still the Horrible Howl, many women fell prey to his seduction, trying to pin the elusive man down with demands of eternal love, a pledge of loyalty, and worse, _marriage._ But Howl Pendragon was not a man to play with. Instead, _he _played with one's heart, as at the time, he did not possess his anymore. He could twist words around with his deft tongue, pure music to one's ears, to whisper the sweetest of nicknames, but also to his advantage, delicately explaining and detonating a situation and shamelessly slither-outing whenever he deemed a woman was getting too close for comfort.

After the bombing, and when the reconstruction was done, wild rumors began flying around the capital, Kingbsury, and mostly in small cities, such as the sea-city Porthaven, or the capital of May Day, Market Chipping. Gossip, as it was called, was spread by noisy women (without long noses, thank you, Sophie Hatter was a handful enough), the maids happening to overhear their masters' discussion, and the matter quickly brushing the ears of Gracia and her friends. It was a real _bouche à oreille_, and scandalized young girls began denying the rumors.

There was _no way_ Howl had found a woman to settle down with.

And that woman was certainly _not_ Sophie Hatter, eldest of three and modest hatter.

This murmur, of a modest gray mouse who was supposed to live a meekly life actually living with the most grandiose and wicked wizard of all existence, was currently the subject of conversation to Gracia, the first daughter in a chain of 3 boys, the blacksmith's daddy's girl, and her friends (who served more as cronies) Alanda and Ione.

As soon as the three women received their hazel-choco cake and indulged in the mellow soft delight, they began chatting, venting out their apparent jealousy at Sophie Hatter, _Sophie Hatter,_ actually living with the most gorgeous and engaging man to ever be known in Ingary.

"I can't believe that the Hatter _had _the boldness to stay with Howl! Doesn't she know that she should take care of her silly hat shop?" exclaimed Alanda quite loudly, earning herself some glares from the Sophie's previous assistants and customers.

Wanting to add her own opinion on the matter, Ione swallowed her piece of cake, dabbing elegantly the corners of her rouge-tinted mouth, before speaking in an irritating nasally voice, "I believe, personally, that the only reason Sophie Hatter came in contact with Howl is because her business was failing quite miserably, and she had no other option but to see the most talented man we know. Besides, I'm sure the job she obtained there was nothing quite adventurous, she _is _the eldest of three after all."

Gracia, who was usually quite open on the subject of Howl, took those rumors with a grain of salt, reflecting on the matter. "Would Sophie Hatter be truly living with our dearest wizard, there is no reason to worry." Faced with the outraged look on Alanda's face, she continued calmly, "My dear Alanda, do you believe honestly those rumours? They are not worth our time and our energy, unlike some other man I could easily name. In fact, we are pretty safe to assume Howl is still available. After all, he only consumes the prettiest girls' hearts, not the eldest of three's."

Visibly, this comment calmed down Howl's most fervent admirer, and the girls continued on their gossip, quite often returning on Howl's assets, before someone in the back of the counter shouted out.

"SOPHIE!"

In a split-second, all heads turned to Martha, her outburst quite noticeable. But all they found was Césari's mandatory pink dress engulfing the frame of a petite woman, her voice muffled by Martha's embrace. Afterwards, the youngest Hatter seemed to have quieted down and when she pulled back from the hug, the face of a visibly radiant Sophie Hatter was exposed to all, her smile lighting up her countenance, matching the creamy yellow, and yet simple dress, she wore, the sleeves slightly puffed out and the creases making her look quite cute. Just behind her sat innocently a white hat, trimmed with a red ribbon, and a heart-shaped knot.

Both girls stood up, Martha grinning sheepishly for having disturbed the afternoon tea, and just as they sat on a table near the counter, the lonely hat was lifted off the ground and floated onto Sophie's red-gold mane, dropping softly with a _puff!_ Both girls continued on their discussion, talking about how happy they were to finally be able to see each other and catching up onto what they have missed, when suddenly, Sophie's hat was once again lifted.

She turned back, only to meet a lonely hand sitting on the back of the chair. Following the member attached to it, Sophie's blue green eyes soon met a billowy white shirt and startling emerald eyes, some dark strands falling in their ways. "Hello, ladies," commented the visitor, his hip locked on one side, before sitting down on Sophie's right and taking her hand in his on top of the table, quite visible for anyone to see.

"Hello, Howl! How are you doing?" asked Martha politely. It had been a while since she last saw her sister's love (she was quite busy preparing her wedding with Michael, but she was always informed about Sophie's well-being and happiness, thanks to him) and frankly, things always got interesting when the wizard, Sophie, and other women were involved in the windmill of rumors.

"Quite well, thank you," he quipped back smoothly. Then, after a shiver ran up his spine (from the rapt attention and stares of Gracia, Alanda and Ione), he continued, "You see, Martha, Sophie dear and I have a proposition for you. We wanted to tell you first, because we're sure you'll take the news better than Lettie or Fanny."

The young Hatter lifted an eyebrow, quite interested. Then, something glittery and quite gold caught her eyes, and when she looked down to her sister and the Royal Wizard's intertwined fingers, she realized there waited two identical golden rings, a sapphire resting on Sophie's and an ruby on Howl's.

Realization downed on her, and Martha felt so giddy and happy for her sister, she couldn't help but exclaim loudly, "You're getting _married?!"_

At that moment, time froze. All attention was focused on the table where they say, Sophie blushing greatly, Martha jumping around the table to give her big sister the greatest of all bear hugs and Howl humming a joyful tune, fingers drumming innocently against the table in rhythm.

And then,

"What!?"

"Did you hear that, Ana?"

"Oh, my! Oh, my! Wizard Howl is getting married!"

"That's NOT true!" burst a nasally voice, Alanda's. What just happened? Did the rumors just become true at this instant?

Standing up, the chairs' legs scrapping unpleasantly against the floor, Gracia, Alanda and Ione walked indignantly out of Césari's, shouting quite loudly to the girls having followed the young couple inside that "Our dearest prince is getting married to the eldest of three!"

Squeaks and sobs ensued, the young girls weeping dramatically for the loss of their beloved, creating a huge commotion.

When Howl noted how much impact the news of the wedding had, he decided that maybe, just maybe, next time he shouldn't insist so intently on showing off their holding hands, _especially if they were wearing their rings._

* * *

_The end was quite funny to write, hehehe. But I just made it (Sonic and the Black Knight reference! :3 )_

_Oh well, two down, ten to go. Hope I can post one tomorrow, but I'm not sure if I can manage. Anyways, reviews are love, so please tell me what you think of the story or if I should change the style to make the Ways for Howl to get Sophie's heart more obvious. 3_

_'Melia, signing out, for now... :3_


	3. Hugging

**Third chaaaapteeeeer **** Kind of a follow-up to last chapter, but can stand alone too.**

**On a side note, this one may be shorter than the previous two, 'cause I had not that much inspiration :S But I'll try to make them all even, around 1 700-1 800 words.**

**Btw, people…Y U NO tell me if you like this? Hahah, just kidding. I'll still write for HMC **

**I'll try to update this daily, or every two days, trying to force myself to find inspiration anywhere. :P**

**Disclaimers: No own, me no Jones or Miyazaki, me bows to them, *bowing looooooow***

**In Which Howl Gets to Sophie's Heart**

**Chapter 3: Hugging**

"Sophie!"

And the world became a colorful blur. Sophie felt herself wrapped in strong, sturdy arms, and pressed tightly against a chest clad in a turquoise tunic. She was spun around quite a few times before her feet regained the ground and it took a while before the dizziness left her head.

When she recovered from the impromptu whirl, Sophie lifted her arms to hug back her fiancé. She pressed her nose against his shoulder, taking in the scent of honeysuckle and wood, as he nuzzled her fiery hair, murmuring small words of content in what seemed to be Welsh.

It had been a while, she noted. After all, as soon as Howl announced their marriage to Martha, the windmill of Césari's was not to be tempered with anymore and ran its course on its own, quickly spreading the news to an elated Fanny and a not-so-surprised Mrs. Fairfax. The day over, Sophie's stepmother was knocking furiously on the Market Chipping entrance, demanding to see her oldest daughter before smothering her in a ruffle of material, tissues and tears.

But Fanny's mood shifted quickly from the optimistic and bubbly woman to the scolding mother, who wiggled a perfectly manicured finger up and down to lecture Sophie, still sprawled on the stairs where her mother assaulted her, about the dangers of living with your fiancé if there was no chaperone (and_ no_, Calcifer and Michael did not count, they were fire demons and young boy of fifteen respectively, for crying out loud!). Fanny had a common sense, which was often designed as motherly instinct, and knew that even though Sophie was a proper and educated young woman, some still fell in the more…raw temptation offered to them, like a kid desperately trying to reach a candy he would not have coveted if his or her parent did not mention its existence. It was, after all, perfectly human and natural to desire which you could not have immediately.

And in these circumstances, with Howl dragging his half-asleep self down the stairs, Calcifer singing merrily the Saucepan song by the hearth and Michael barely awake from the commotion below, Fanny asked clearly and loudly Sophie to move back until the wedding.

Let's admit it, between us, maybe she should have done this when Howl _was not _within earshot.

The shouting could have been heard all around Ingary as a childish game of tug-o-war started between Howl and Fanny, both holding onto one of Sophie's arms and repeating over and over that _'No he wouldn't take advantage of her. He was a respectable and sensible man and he wanted Sophie's happiness before anything else!' _and that _'As much as I trust you, there's no way my daughter is staying here, unchaperoned. It may have been okay while she was older, but now this is not proper at all for a young lady this age!'_

In the end, Howl won over, taking Sophie into a bear-hug and glaring quite fiercely, but without any malice, at Fanny, with a look that clearly said 'She's staying here!' Knowing he was prone to throwing a tantrum involving green slime and deafening wails, Sophie reassured her stepmother that she would indeed move out, but she still had some issues to take care of.

Not so much convinced, but with Calcifer's promise that he wouldn't leave the two lovebirds out of his eyesight (there is to note that he did not mention that he would uphold this promise as long as he was in the castle or that they were outside of the bedroom) and aware that Sophie was trustworthy in her words, Fanny reluctantly bid goodbye to her eldest, asking her to make sure she had moved out before the end of the month, and the entrance to Market Chipping shut soundlessly, as if by magic.

Freed from Fanny's presence, Sophie turned back to her sulking fiancé, who sat down on the high-backed chair in front of the hearth. She moved around it, only to take in the sight of a freshly awakened Howl, pouting quite exaggeratedly and inky black hair sticking out in all directions. He had his arms crossed, like a child who was denied his candy until someone opened the jar for him, and his legs stuck out, crossed at the ankle and barefoot. He wore loose pants and a big nightshirt, some buttons opened and showing some of his skin.

She sighed, aware that Howl could act quite childishly when he wanted to. She knelt down on his side, rocking on her heels and smoothing down his wild morning hair, before asking, "Are you okay?" When he didn't respond, Sophie cringed inwardly, knowing that this silent treatment meant he was hurt, and turned to Calcifer, who began whistling conveniently, as if trying to slither-out of this mess and not get involved with the craziness of every day (_You slither-outering snake, and I thought that you weren't corrupted by Howl's heart like the Witch's fire demon_).

Sophie got up, and left her fiancé alone, until they both had their breakfast. Maybe then he'd be more apt to open up.

But it was quite the awkward moment, the Royal Wizard refusing to eat breakfast unless Sophie spoon-fed him, just like a baby. She refused, trying to remain calm as he pushed the limit to how much one can sulk and stay silent and how much the other one can endure this.

It stayed this way until the night, when Howl came back from a consultation with the King, tired and relieved it was finally over. Sophie did not like to push the matter, especially when she knew he was exhausted and more prompt to reveal what bothered him that very day, but she had to ask, or she'd waste the last month she could spend in the castle with Howl before their wedding.

The bed creaked lowly, and a mass of warmth fell down beside her on its side. Sophie turned back to her beloved, taking in the curious twinkle of his green orbs asking silently as to why she wasn't sleeping yet.

"I wanted to ask you something," she whispered gently, answering him. He only rolled his eyes and lifted an arm to bring her closer, curling around her in comfort as if he forgot what happened the morning with Fanny. After a silent moment disrupted by Calcifer's 'I'm home! Goodnight you weird wizards,' she spoke up again, voice slightly muffled by his suit, "Are you mad?"

His immediate reaction was a snort. Then, "Sophie, dear, if I was mad I'm sure Calcifer would have told you already, the blabbermouth. But to answer you, no, I'm not mad. I'm dying here."

Sophie had to supress a smile, the corners of her lips twitching at the reminder of Howl's sickness when he came back from Wales ("I'm dying of boredom. […] Or maybe just dying.")

She could not help it, and answered promptly, "Dying of what? Of overdone flowery words making you lose your sleep-time?" A clear reference to the consultation he had with the King.

He shook his head. "No, I'm dying thinking this place will be lonely in a month." His voice had dropped to a murmur, so low she had to snuggle closer to hear it.

Instantly, her happy mood was gone, replaced by a feeling of guilt and sympathy. Sophie knew it was hard for Howl to be left alone. After all, he couldn't go back to Wales (or Megan would suspect something) or stay with only Calcifer and Michael's company (both of them out more often these days, Calcifer enjoying his freedom and Michael courting Martha every day). He was a lonely type of person, and now that he had her company, it was hard for him to imagine what his life used to be before, when he was still Horrible Howl and when he tried woman after woman, looking for someone who might fill in this ache and need of someone's presence by his side.

Sophie, her throat tight and knotted and retaining tears, only fisted her hands on his suit, holding him tightly to her. "It's only until the wedding. Besides, it's not as if you're not allowed to see me during the day," she began, trying to comfort him. She added as an afterthought, feeling him stiffen, but barely, "And don't worry. Fanny will let you see me. She's not bad, you know, just trying to look out for me. She's my mother."

He seemed unconvinced (as his body was still as hard as a board), but eventually, he loosened up, a mighty yawn escaping his mouth, and with a murmured 'Good night, Sophie,' both wizard and witch went to sleep, happier than they were during the day.

After their little discussion, Howl came to the understanding that Sophie had agreed, albeit silently and not as fervently, to Fanny's idea of moving out until they were married. No wanting to be separated from her sisters either, Sophie proposed the idea that she could stay with Mrs. Fairfax and Lettie (who was hanging around Wizard Sulliman often these days), also a compromise to stay near the entrance to Howl's castle.

The wizard wasn't too keen of this arrangement, but he figured that as long as he could see and talk to Sophie, it was better than nothing. But he didn't account on missing her so bad. Thus, he came to visit her every day, giving her a tight hug and a kiss on the cheek as a greeting and leaving a flower (fresh from the gardens) in her hair as a goodbye (with the usual hug and kiss too).

Although he tried to see her more, Howl realized that Sophie was quite busy, learning how to control her powers and spending an enormous (and ridiculous, he deemed) amount of time with her sisters or her stepmother. As such, he began missing her greatly, and when he was finally able to meet his beloved mouse again, he swept her in his arms for a gigantic bear-hug.

"Sophie!"

She was still soft and warm as he remembered her. Howl spun her around for a few times before settling her down and nuzzling her hair. When she returned his embrace, he spoke few words of endearment in her ears and hugged more tightly.

It was nice to be able to hug her again.

* * *

_Personally, I think this is the cutest one yet. Anyways, one quarter done people! :)_

_Tomorrow (of the day after...): CUDDLING! Get ready for some lovey-dovey WAFF (though if you have any ideas, tell me ;)  
Btw, I said this was going to be shorter than the other...but it seems I underestimated myself, 'cause this chapter is the longuest... *sheepish grin*_

_Anyways, enjoy :)_

_'Melia, signing out, for now... :3_


	4. Cuddling

***siiiiiigh* Where's the inspiration, people? Where IS IT?**

**Aaaanyways, hope you enjoy this one, and thank you all for reviewing (you made my snow/slush-filled afternoon seem brighter :3)**

**This one can also follow last chapter and stand alone :P**

**Disclaimers: You know the deal; I write, you read, we boooooooooow *bowing to Hayao Miyazaki and Diana Wynne Jones***

**In Which Howl Gets to Sophie's Heart**

**Chapter 4: Cuddling**

It smelled like honey and dew.

Well, of course it did. Mrs. Fairfax's back garden was always filled with a huge varieties of flowers (which Howl would never admit that, sometimes, rivaled his own meadow) and bustling bees, jumping from, often, yellow-colored stamen to another, small specks sticking to their legs and pollinizing another flower, which could finally reproduce.

That day, it had rained quite heavily during morning, and Sophie and Howl were confined to the inside of Mrs. Fairfax's cosy house (which posed, mind you all, absolutely no problem at all). Soon, the fairly old witch began talking, rambling something which spoke of nonsense to Howl and Sophie, who only looked in each other's eyes for a while, creating a small mental discussion (without the use of magic mind you) – _Do you want to stay in, dear? – I'd like to go tend to the flowers but it rains so… - Alright, then, but don't be surprised if I fall asleep on your laps, cariad _– before resuming their usual activities (snuggling), not minding at all the old lady's ceaseless chatter. They got a respite when said lady went to prepare some of her afternoon tea, but it was short lived, as she came back as quickly as she was gone (apparently, she had already boiled the water and only had to serve it).

It had been long, the air so humid it made the usually comfy home feel stuffy. Quite tired of sitting down all day and having done nothing productive, Sophie went out a while for some fresh air, soon followed by her wizard.

She wandered meaninglessly, her long dress catching the thorns of some roses and the long, finely chiseled and dainty leaves of forget-me-nots. When she took notice of this, Sophie walked carefully, lifting the hem of her dress to not break the flowers' fragile stem, and avoiding the muddy spots, the land waterlogged to the max and even rejecting the liquid substance in the form of small ponds.

Finally, Sophie came to a halt, sitting down on a miraculously dry spot, spared by the great oak standing above it and shielding it with its rich green foliage. When Howl caught sight of the rough darkened bark and the luxurious leaves, some droplets of clear water falling every now and then from above, he winced inwardly, remembering the time he had to pretend to court Lettie in order to learn more about his mysterious cleaning-lady, who was at that time under an aging spell.

It wasn't the more joyful time of his life, as he would have preferred to spend more time with Sophie without making her unnecessarily jealous (because jealousy led to reflections, and reflections led to questioning one's self-worth, which was the principal reason the young witch was cursed for such a long time; it was a mean of hiding herself and not needing to show the world the face it wanted her to present, it enabled Sophie to let her inner self, full of insecurities and conviction, show in the form of a stubborn, bossy and appealingly clean old woman).

And yet, Howl, _Heartless Howl _(as he was at the time, literally) still fell in love with this little gray mouse, for her vibrant personality, her unending kindness and compassion and also for the love she could for anyone, even one as heartless and insensible as him.

_Good old memories, _he thought fondly.

Nevertheless, even though the unease was still present, Howl went to her side and plopped down on her right. He was sure that if the ground had a soft consistency (just like a balloon's), Sophie would have bounced high in the air. _What a funny thought, _he mused amusedly. (A/N: oh deary me, an alliteration)

"I feel like sleeping," spoke his fiancée, resting her head against his shoulder. She closed her eyes, letting out a long-suffering sigh out of her mouth, as he turned towards her, casting his arms around her shoulders and bringing her to him until she was sitting sideways on his lap, the right side of her body entirely in contact with his. His hand found a way to her red locks, twirling the end of it instinctively; having taken a liking to this as he learned it calmed him. At first, it was a rare thing for him to do, but he grew accustomed, to neither of their displeasure.

"Well, it is the kind of day where everyone seems drowsy," he muttered back in response, watching the large meadow of Mrs. Fairfax being invaded by the bees, not afraid anymore of the rain burdening their frail wings.

Time went silently, the sun moving slowly downward to the horizon, and when Sophie started to shiver (she had fallen asleep a while ago), Howl flicked his free wrist to conjure a blanket out of thin air. He then bundled his fiancée in it, draping the white fabric over her head like old grannies did and only letting some strands of hair escape the cotton prison, falling over her face prettily. He brushed them away, his fingers lingering slightly on her light countenance and taking in the sight of her cute button nose, pink lips covering a heart-warming natural and genuine smile (which made him feel like a puddle of goo) and rosy cheeks, all matching with her round (yet not chubby) face.

At that moment (just like any other time he bothered to think about it), Howl felt like the luckiest man in the world.

Letting Sophie sleep some more and covering the exposed part of her legs (she lifted them to curl up against him for more warmth, but the dress had moved as well, uncovering about half of her calves), Howl only pressed a kiss against her temple and wrapped his arms tighter around her bundled form as Sophie snuggled against him, scrunching her nose at the coarse material of his suit.

His eyes started to drop slowly, the warmth lulling him gently without him realizing, and soundlessly, Howl fell asleep, snuggling with Sophie with affection, his back resting against a solid bark which once brought him bad memories.

Not this time, though.

It seemed dew and honey were good.

Good to sleep to.

* * *

_Inspiraaaaation, come baaaaaaack :(_

_One third done, guys! :)_

_But I have absolutely NO IDEA for Chapter 5: Don't force her. I mean, it could take so many directions, but gahhh, I'll see to it, and think, think, thiiiiiiiink..._

_Or maybe...OH! I got it! Now I hope you enjoyed this [shortest] fic, and I'll see (write) you tomorrow or friday. HAPPY SEMAINE DE RELÂAAACHE :D_

_'Melia, signing out, for now... :3_


	5. Don't Force Her (Movie-verse)

**Here's the thing: I want to make 2 versions of the theme; 1 movie-verse and the other book-verse.**

**Movie-verse: 1 chapter length**

**Book-verse: 2 chapters length**

**Soo, yeah…niaha, semaine de relâaaaache! ****No schoooool. AWESOME POSSUM! (too much yessikziiq… -v-)**

**Disclaimer: For this one, I bow to Miyazaki for the movie, and Jones for the…storiesones? :P**

**In Which Howl Gets to Sophie's Heart**

**Chapter 5: Don't Force Her**

**Version 1: Movie-verse**

Confound it all!

He had looked everywhere, for years, sometimes even sacrificing some of his beauty sleep to examine every corner of every street. He missed his breakfast more often than not, leaving little Markl in Calcifer's metaphorical hands, knowing the young apprentice was safer and would learn more this way than if he accompanied him.

And yet, no matter how much time he spent, he couldn't find her!

This woman, with silver-hair and chocolate eyes.

The same one that haunted his dreams, ever since he gave Calcifer a second chance at life.

Howl could still remember it clearly. The day he met this pretty woman being engulfed by the ground, as if the magic spell cast on her decided it was too dangerous for its receiver to sustain any longer. He could recall the sweet, melodious sound of her voice, strongly calling out to him and the fire demon he had just saved to 'find her in the future.'

And she had disappeared from his life as quickly as his heart.

But what did she mean, 'find her in the future'?

Howl had pondered this thought only weeks after helping the demon (whose name, he found out thanks to the silver-haired woman, was Calcifer), still too preoccupied by the busy schedule Witch Sulliman was imposing on his frail (and a little too thin) shoulders. At the time, the young wizard had bigger fishes to fry than to wonder on that woman's mysterious call, and only during his sleep she managed to find him again, grasping part of his subconscious with her never-fading presence, those brown orbs of hers still sparkling strongly within his mind.

When Howl realized that he'd spend sleepless nights as long as he fought to forget that bizarre woman, Calcifer considered the idea of actually doing as she asked, which meant, 'find her in the future'. The old fire demon noted the bags under the young boy's eyes, result of trying to fight what was evident (his want to find that woman, even if he denied it strongly), and knew that if this went on any longer, Howl would suffer consequences, both on his physical abilities but also on his magical power and prowess, for if one was prone to mistakes when extremely tired, who knew what damages a talented and raw power filled young wizard could create.

Of course, being slightly insensible and irrational due to the loss of his heart, Howl rejected the idea almost instantaneously with a wave of his hand, laughing out loud and telling his new friend, "Why, I'm starting to think _you_ wish to meet her again, companion."

Shaking his head at the nonsensical and whimsical human feeling of denial and airiness, Calcifer insisted, still convinced that finding that woman would be the best thing to happen to both of them. His foreboding proved to be true, as about five years later, after Howl was expelled from the academy for 'possession of an evil familiar, namely a fire demon of days of old', the rash yet childish at heart wizard, with his newly-acquired sense of freedom, went to the pursuits of pretty-faced females, making them fall in love with him and then disregarding their feelings when they began to cling on him.

_That boy is insane, _Calcifer had once thought.

It seemed, in the beginning, that Howl was abusing his privilege of freedom, coming rarely home, enough only to feed his heart-keeper some logs for surviving. The wizard had no sense of restraint, having lost his parental figures at a young age and Wizard Sulliman encouraging his curiosity by giving him access to all kind of books on magic, from the darkest and most repulsive subjects to the more advanced spells, reserved for the elite of wizardry. Of course, she had been supervising him, because wizards in training were to never be left alone (this was especially true in Howl's case, as he had an incredible latent potential, still too raw to actually be useful for Sulliman, but trainable, moldable), but all in all, Howl had never truly been put on a leash any time in his life, giving birth to a carefree and reckless young man.

In his crazy unpredictable moods, Howl had even dared to ask Calcifer a humongous favor: the power to move a house.

In fact, a house did not suffice for the flamboyant wizard, who had taken a hobbit at spending at least two hours in the bathroom to prop himself for his courting, finding his old look (raven locks and old wizard-prentice clothes) too boring to accommodate to this freedom, this frivolity Ingary had begun to feel, not yet aware that a war was to begin about a year after the prosperous baby-boom and the creation of many magical institutes, where wizards served as merchants for services (such as spells for unbaking a cake or creating a storm to miss school).

He began sketching, adding the details there and there, and finally, with Calcifer's reluctant help, both wizard and demon created a moving castle. At first, life seemed to stay the same; Howl out most of the time and Calcifer bored to death. But along the way, war came, creating the urgent need for armed forces, and who were better fighter than wizards?

No one.

Still having pledged loyalty to his old academy, and yet even though he had been expelled from it for about two three years, Howl was summoned directly by the King (on Sulliman's advice). Unfortunately for the leader of the country, the powerful wizard was an elusive man, refusing to be pinned down by anything, valuing his freedom as his identity, his life. Howl went to great measures, casting multiple spells on his castle and spreading around the rumors that 'Horrible Howl' would feed himself on pretty women's heart, and yet, this did not deter the King from requesting Howl's assistance.

It was truly a mess in Ingary: the accusation of the other nation of having abducted and holding in ransom Prince Justin, the sudden retirement of Wizard Sulliman as the armed forces' leader, the refusal of one of the most potent wizards in the country, and also, the many poor families, their jobs unnecessary as what was needed was many young volunteers to fight, the problem with Heartless Howl and the women of Ingary, and also that moving castle of his, a bulky traveling mass of metal and other material, normally visible to the naked eye and easy to capture with the right spells, and yet as elusive as its owner.

Calcifer had predicted it; Howl was going awry (as was the country) and only that silver-haired woman was to be the best thing to happen to them both.

But before we dive deeper into this, let's find about the _second_ best thing to happen for wizard and fire demon.

This thing, as it usually is called by the common people, came in the form of a young, very young, boy, sleeping onto the doormat of Howl's castle. He had reddish upward-spiked hair, and his chubby face presented the innocence of a kid, orphaned and famished.

Howl, not as heartless as many believed him to be, took the young boy in, never asking any questions. After all, everyone was entitled to some secrets, and the poor lad seemed so lost the wizard wanted to guide him, at least. It was a way of repenting himself for not helping in the war, as cowardly as he was. In due time, Markl started opening up, not as shy as in the beginning.

When Howl felt the lad could take care of himself, and when he sensed his young companion's fervent curiosity, the advanced wizard decided to take him as his first and only apprentice. He introduced Markl to Calcifer (much to both their amusement as the young boy whispered, "Is that…a living torch?"), and Howl started spending more time home, away from the hussies (as Calcifer so gently dubbed them), and caring for young Markl's need; food, clothes, room, companionship, and curiosity.

Truly, young Markl was the reason Howl had not continued to go to the bad.

But he couldn't stop him from making one of his worst (or best?) mistakes; courting the Witch of the Waste.

_This_ spelled disaster.

Markl could picture the scene in his mind; the door (black side up) slamming open and then shut, Howl looking extremely worried, creases forming on his forehead and worry shaking him from the inside out, and Calcifer bellowing at the wizard, "_You idiotic peacock of a moron! What possessed you in the seven seas to court THAT woman of all? Do you want to get us all cursed for eternity, you buffoon?!"_

It wasn't the happiest of their days, for sure.

With the war raging outside, the threat of the curse on the inside, the ladies he had once courted angry and tearful, and Sulliman and the King sending summons after summons, Howl had to slither out of this, with only Calcifer's old words on his mind, "That woman who told us to find her in the future is the best thing that's going to happen to us both."

And thus, Howl ignored everything else, looking for this woman who was supposed to be his 'savior', hoping for nothing short of a miracle.

He looked for her everywhere, even going as far as apologizing to the women he had let down before to find some clues about this silver-haired woman. He asked questions, tried to cast a finding spell, but that woman had literally disappeared from the surface.

She was nowhere to be found!

That peculiar day, he had been wandering in the streets of Market Chipping, quite tired and wanting to be far from the happy festivities May Day was bringing when he met a little gray mouse, accosted by two guards. She looked like she wanted to stay far away from them, and usually, How would only have helped her and gone on his way.

But something about her felt familiar,

It was like an old magic remain, _his _magic, emanated from her. Of course, Howl had no idea why that woman would be covered by the trace of his magic, but then, he realized that maybe she was _the_ person he had been looking for for years.

And albeit she looked different, when Howl went by her side, wrapping his arm around her small shoulders and flicking his wrist to make the soldiers march on their way, he recognized immediately her brown eyes, the one that haunted his dreams ever since he saved Calcifer. The way her shoulders fit perfectly under his arms, or her soft, and slightly shaky and shy, voice saying that she was only going to Césari's.

Of course, Howl, being the perfect gentleman he was and jumping on the opportunity at spending more time with the girl he spent years looking for, proposed to be her escort, sensing the Witch's blob henchmen silently stalking him and his girl.

Naturally, when Howl took Sophie for a walk in the sky, he was half-tempted to bring her to his castle and ask her: how did she come into the meadow? Why? How did she know their names? - and such.

But Howl knew that now that he had found her, he would easily recognize her magical aura, even through a huge crowd.

She was the one…

And he had found her 'in the future'.

There was no need to force her hand; only trust her.

After all, she was 'the best thing that was going to happen to them both'.

And Calcifer did _not _lie when it concerned their contract.

* * *

_Aaaaalright, I've realized I've done no movie-verse ficlet, soo here it is. :)_

_I know, I know, it's weird, en'it? _

_Oh, well...be prepared for a double-post! :)_

_Next chapters coming live up! :D_

_'Melia, not signing out :3_


	6. Don't Force Her (Book-verse)

**Here's the thing: I deleted last chapter because I wanted to make the Don't Force Her into a standalone fic, which will also become my longest one ever (about 14k words, do you imagine!)**

**I'm extremely sorry for the late update since I had no idea I'd take out my actual chapter of Don't Force Her and turn it into an actual one-shot…**

**But thank you all for your faves and reviews and views and follows! 3**

**Disclaimers: Not owned, neeeeeeeever.**

**In Which Howls Gets to Sophie's Heart**

**Chapter 5: Don't Force Her/Him**

**Version 2: Book-verse**

_ACHOO!_

All passengers please evacuate, I repeat. All passengers please evacuate. This is an emergency.

Howl was ill.

Do you imagine this?

Sophie thought the wizard was clearly exaggerating his symptoms. Apparently, from what she had deduced from Calcifer's sneers, the many eccentricities Howl had developed were for her sake.

Well, his sake.

Calcifer said that if Howl was exaggerating so hard and putting on so many façades was to get her attention. After all, he acted just like a child, and wanted the same attention one could get. And even more if possible.

All Howl did, when he was ill, was grate on everyone's nerves, until they had enough and either begged Sophie to take care of him (Howl), said they would spend their days at Césari's or see if Mrs. Fairfax needed some helping tending to her fields (Michael), or simply left because Howl proved to be much of annoyance, and just because _now _he had the freedom to do as such (Calcifer).

But at least, they offered her their best wishes, and said that if Howl needed a good wacking, then she was very welcome to call upon them (them here being Calcifer).

And they left her alone with a very much ill wizard.

The previous week, Howl caught a cold. Nothing quite dangerous or anything, but the way he squirmed and tossed around, it looked as if the end of the world was approaching at high speed. His nose was clogged up and bright red from the overuse of tissues, his throat scratchy and tightly closed up. His mouth felt drier than any desert, having to breathe by it since his nose was obstructed.

Howl felt miserable.

He wished Sophie would hear him and tend to him, but the stubborn woman refused to. Instead, she concentrated on cutting her precious flowers and taking care of the busy shop. He wailed out loudly, attempting to scare his clients, and apparently, it had worked, because as soon as he did, he could hear the people stomping outside, one man even having the bravery of saying to Sophie, "If you ever feel afraid in this big castle, you can always count of me."

The cheek of the lad!

Howl harrumphed, crossing his arms and turning on his side, facing the window and its view to Wales. He heard steps gradually getting closer, but refused to turn around as they stopped in front of his bedroom's door, and a hand knocked on it. The person still entered, and the bed sank behind him, where Sophie (he could recognize her perfume anywhere) had sat down.

"How's the big baby doing?" she giggled, her voice musical and light. She was in a good mood, even though Howl had chased away all her customers. (In fact, Sophie didn't feel like opening the flower shop today, but since there were so many persons waiting outside, she had to force herself to open up and take care of the business.) Howl only pouted, face still hidden from her view.

Aware her husband wouldn't turn around (he was as stubborn as she was, and that was one thing to say), Sophie got up and crossed the bed before sitting down in front of him. She brought a hand up to Howl's cheeks, and slid it up on his forehead, beneath his unruly hair, checking his temperature.

He still seemed warm, but better than two days ago, with his burning fevers almost boiling water. Sophie smiled, and lay down on her side, turning around to face her pouting husband.

_Honestly, he can be such a child when he puts his mind to it._ However, she still stayed at a fairly safe distance from his mouth so as to not breathe the sick air he was exhaling. "It's time for your medicine, you know?" At his frown, she sighed gently, "I _know_ you don't like it – no one does – but you still have to take it."

Howl stuck out his tongue and turned on his back, hair falling around him like a halo. "You're not forcing me to take anything," he said petulantly, voice nasally and rough. He then proceeded to cough a few times and flick his wrist for a tissue before blowing his nose quite loudly.

Rolling her eyes at his antics, Sophie reached across him for the tray she had brought, laying half of her body on him, before she retracted and sat on her knees by Howl's left side. She opened a plum-colored bottle and filled a tablespoon with a clear liquid. She then asked for Howl to sit up so he could take the medicine. "No way!" he responded childishly, turning his head left and right as if throwing a mini tantrum.

Sophie sighed patiently, and told him with the saddest look on her face and the most exaggerated of feelings in her voice, "But, Howl, if you don't take it, then we won't be able to sleep together until you're totally healed!" She then turned her head aside downward, making it seems as if she was truly despairing, and her shoulders shook expertly.

Howl frowned at her, but still sat up and crossed his arms even tighter. "_Oh fine!_ Just remind me to never teach you how to act, you evil witch." He opened his mouth, and his eyes narrowed to tell her 'Hurry up before I change my mind'.

Sophie took her chance, bringing the spoon to his mouth and feeding him the medicine, as her husband swallowed dramatically, flailing his arms like a headless chicken. He then pouted and told her, "I want a hug," holding his arms out expectantly.

His wife rolled her eyes but still crawled in his arms. They laid together in silence, him breathing with difficulty through his mouth and her tracing circles with her fingers on his chest, until Howl spoke one last time,

"I swear that when Calcifer and Michael come back, I'm making them ill and forcing them to eat that vile poison you call medicine."

Sophie snorted.

He was really a child at heart.

* * *

_This one's supposed to be funny :)_

_Ok: important note for those who wanted to read the end of the angsty chapter I deleted (the Book-verse version part 1): I'm continuing this story into a one-shot fic, so it **will** be posted, but as another standalone story which is called: Of Heartbreak and Confessions._

_Once again, I'm really sorry for this, if you have any problem understanding what happened, just PM or ask me to make things clearer, alright?_

_:)_

_Next chapter: little notes! Awnnn. I don't know how it will go, but hopefully, it will be fun and sweet. :)_

_'Melia, signing out._


	7. Little Notes

**Mehh… not too sure where this sprouted from…. mmmmh…. Oh, well, who cares? (I don't).**

**Besides this, I wanted to thank you all for the 10k words, 11 reviews, 12 faves and 13 follows (you have a weird sense of humor)! And a special cookie to Bushtail42 and MeatAngel for having reviewed two of my HMC fics! :3 *hands over choco cookies***

**Yeahh, so without further ado,**

**It's adventure (story) time! **

**Disclaimers: No he escrito el novel de Dianne Wynne Jones. ****Esa mujer es una genia! **

**In Which Howl Gets to Sophie's Heart**

**Chapter 6: Little Notes**

The day was scalding hot.

As soon as the moving castle's inhabitants woke up, they were assaulted by the sun's hot rays. All surfaces which were touched by the light had warmed up so, Sophie was able to cook an egg on them for breakfast (besides, everyone refused to go near Calcifer, not wanting stay even closer to any source of warmth). A soft northern breeze was greatly welcomed, but it went as fast as it came, leaving behind a trail of humid air.

_It _wasn't welcome, as it made the clothes everyone wore stick on their bodies, the sweat mingling with the humidity and creating a very uncomfortable atmosphere. For once, Howl took a bath without the need to ask Calcifer to prepare hot water ("I never thougth this day would ever come…"), and was soon followed by his wife and his apprentice.

Thankfully for the latter two, since nobody was willing to come into the heat, the flower shop was devoid of clients, and all flowers were moved to a darker and drier place so they would not wither in the harsh sunlight.

Calcifer, on his part, was acting like a hyper active child on sugar, zipping high and low, from one corner of the flower field to another, and mocking the three wizards/witch who rested in the shadow of a great oak, letting a bewitched fan move up and down frantically and cooling them down. "I'm a fire demon and the heat doesn't bother me! Take _that, _Howl!"

Aforementioned wizard only grumbled lowly, too tired and sweaty to bother answering back. His hair had flattened down, sticking to the sides of his face and his forehead, and a droplet of sweat glided down his face, disappearing in the crook of his neck before resuming its path down his collarbone and splashing joyfully on his bare chest, glistening with the water left from his most recent cold bath.

On his sides were his wife and apprentice, the former half-sprawled on his laps, half-laying on the damp grass, her dainty feet hanging over a small pillow she had brought in case she wanted to sleep and Howl didn't want to serve as a human cushion. Both had asked him to cast a spell to make the temperature and humidity more bearable, but alas; such a spell was too bothersome and its effect not convincing enough to be cast.

In other words: it was too weak to use anywhere, and used too much effort and energy for nothing.

Instead, both apprentice and witch followed Sophie's advice, and slept the day through and through, the heat incommoding, but forgettable in the sweet delight of obliviousness, leaving a disheartened Howl to Calcifer's amused taunts and to the sun's mocking rays, taking the temperature in Ingary a notch higher to annoy the wizard even more.

And that left Howl's slender eyebrow ticking dangerously in annoyance, a hard glare focusing on the bewitched, disproportioned fan in front of him. Soon, he was led to boredom, unable to move to let his wife escape the heat and his legs starting to cramp from the sitting position he had adopted during the morning, sporadically blowing air upward by pursuing his lower lip to move the falling strands of hair from stinging his eyes

It was about two in the afternoon, and Howl definitely proved he was a patient man, but he had his limits. Desperate for something to do, the wizard flicked his free wrist (the other was busy playing with Sophie's warm hair, smelling like soft wildflowers and strawberries, he noted absentmindedly) and waited for anything to come and relieve himself of the silent field and the unresponsive flowers.

Finally, Post-it notes and a pen appeared in front of him, levitating by magic in the air until the wizard took them, face confused.

What could he do with Sticky notes?

…_x…_

It was about four in the afternoon when Sophie woke up. Her mouth was dry and it hurt to move her tongue, but clicking the pink member a few times, she reactivated the process of saliva-making. She opened her eyes, but promptly shut them again, the bright sunlight stinging the darkness-accustomed organs. Putting her hand over them, Sophie let her eyes crack open slowly, until the light didn't blind her anymore.

She sat up, looking around the field where she had been sleeping. It was less hot and humid than in the morning, she noted, but still quite warm for such an afternoon. Sophie heard a light snore from her left, and turning around, she was met with the sight of her bare-chested husband, his back rested against the rough trunk of the great oak, hair still sweaty and sticking to his face, and skin slightly tanned. With a blush, the witch noticed his glistening skin, but still admired the view in front of her.

Tenderly, she leant on him, plucking his strands from his face and tucking them behind his ears. He stirred a little, bothered by the contact of warmth against his hot body, but mumbling a few nonsensical words, he stopped fussing, letting only his breath fan over his wife's pink face. _He really can be endearing when no one's looking, _she thought fondly, her cool hand briefly cupping his cheek before going back to its place on her laps.

Sophie, as to not lose her balance, moved her other hand to rest on Howl's other side, but by doing so, a neon yellow flash caught her eyes. Stopping her movement in mid-air, Sophie took in the presence of Sticky notes resting on her husband's laps, the pen having been tucked in neatly in the middle of the pack.

Curiosity taking over, her hovering hand changed directions, latching on the yellow notes. She brought them to her laps, and flicked through them, her left forefinger and thumb holding the part where the Sticky notes were held together and her right thumb pressing on the edge of the first paper. She made a circular movement to the outside, letting the Post-its run under her right thumb, until she remarked fleeting dark patches.

Repeating her earlier motion more slowly, she saw that some of the Sticky notes had been used. Detaching page by page the unused ones and sticking them on the other side of the small carton so as to not waste them, Sophie arrived to the rough drawings and scrawled words only Howl could manage to bring into existence.

The first few words and sentences he had written didn't make sense; not linked between each other, like they were the first few things going on through his head (and it probably was, she was thinking of Howl, after all): _bored, replace bathroom's potions, payback to Calcifer, flowers, hot, warm, legs cramped, silence, weird._

But then, the words began to take a certain direction, relating to each other and making more sense: _Howl, Sophie, love, pretty, flowers, smells nice, watermelon, soft hair, adorable, dutiful, gentle, pushy at times, _

_Lovely Sophie._

_Dear._

_Cariad._

_Sweetheart._

He was describing her.

With a secret smile growing on her face, Sophie detached more and more notes, one particularly attracting her attention.

In the beginning, it looked like ragged lines thrown haphazardly over each other, as if Howl was trying to bring the pen's ink down (like when you write with your pen, but it doesn't work anymore and you scrawl onto a nearby piece of paper to see if there's still ink left), but the more Sophie studied the lines, the more she found some lines were darker and thicker than others, passed over many times and leaving a trace on the other side of the note.

When she linked all the dark lines together, Sophie realized it was a rough drawing of her, when she was sleeping. Drawn-Sophie had a flower (a large daisy) behind her ear, her hair resting around her like a halo. There was a soft smile on her face, and she looked peaceful. What made it more adorable was the small heart doodled on the top left corner, with a two scrawled words, so little she almost missed them.

_Sweet love._

If Sophie hadn't known Howl for so long, she'd have been surprised at the mushy stuff he could sputter when he thought no one was looking, but still, she was agreeably surprised at how romantic and thoughtful he could be with her (whether they were alone or not didn't matter to him). She was touched by the cute small notes he had written on her, and rewarded her husband by pressing a nice kiss to his cheeks.

This time, Howl did wake up, the fluttery touch of his wife's lips signaling that it was high time to get up and face the day. He groaned, wincing when his back was pricked by the bark of the tree, but opened his eyes, placing his hand in front of his mouth when a yawn escaped him. He looked at his beaming wife with lost and unfocused eyes, questioning her silently as to her good mood.

In response, she only showed him the pack of Sticky notes, on which the first page has been scribbled on with three simple words.

_Afternoon, Mister Artist._

He felt confused for a few moments, but in the back of his mind, something clicked. Ahh, so she'd found the Post-its. He grinned bashfully, his hand scratching the back of his hand; obviously, he hadn't meant for her to see his doodles (besides, they were kind of embarrassing); it was only something he'd done out of boredom.

Nevertheless, she still looked happy at his sign of mushiness, hugging him and pressing her face against his cool neck, and just before he managed to wrap his arms around her lithe form, Sophie pulled back, laughing. "Go take a bath when you we go home, alright? You smell like sweat!"

He frowned jokingly, but still brought her against him, "Well that's too bad dear, because I have to inform you that I'm not planning on going back any time soon."

She just nodded.

And the Sticky notes lay by their side, its pen rolling over and catching the Sophie doodle, as if desiring to prevent this cute form of love from flying away in the wind.

* * *

_F-rufffffffff, so fluffyyyyyyyy. :)_

_I find this one cute, but it also can be considered movie or book verse, since I didn't specify if the apprentice was Michael or Markl (though I find little Markl absolutely A-DO-RA-BLE! :33)_

_Anyways, next entry will be Compliments, cross your fingers, hope to live, maybe I'll be updating tomorrow! :3_

_And we'll reach the 1000 views soon, guys! (We're at 942 presently, so just a little more ^^)_

_'Melia, eating cookies. (*omnomnomnom*)_


	8. Compliments

**Alright, guys! WE PASSED 1200 VIEWS, YAHOOO! :D**

**This is super-duper-AWESOME! :3**

**Anyways, I don't quite know how to sort this out; I had a problem with inspiration… but I watched Howl's Moving Castle (again) this morning, and I fell in love with Howl (again), and you can't believe how much I can squeal over a Studio Ghibli fictional character (who goes by the name of Howl) (again)… kyaaa ~ ~ ~**

**I'm jealous now, I want to live in Ingary… *pout***

**And I also want to live in the spirited world where Haku and Chihiro were… so genius! . .theeee-eeeere! *mega pout***

***Sniff*, at least I can dream…**

**:P**

**Anyways, I'm on my way to rewatch Spirited Awaaaaaaay, lalalala ~.~**

**Disclaimer: Howl ne m'appartient pas (malheureusement), mais il a été pensé par Diana Wynne Jones (bless her genius), et animé par Hayao Miyazaki (bless his genius).**

**In Which Howl Gets to Sophie's Heart**

**Chapter 7: Compliments**

_Swish, swash, swosh._

A tired sigh, air blown harshly, blankets thrown off.

The trinkets were twinkling above, soft chimes pitter pattering and creating a melodious sound. A deep crimson jewel turned around in circles above their head, going and coming back, never completing its revolution. Tied to a string to the ceiling, the jewel was glued on the end of a thin stick and the other end was occupied by three pales, spinning vertically, like an invisible fan blowing endlessly.

Sophie felt warm, too warm. She was restless, her hands and mouth dry and hurting, unable to move or even sleep on her stomach like she used to. She was confined on her back, and it has been this way for every woman who went through what she had. Sighing heavily, Sophie sat up, mindful of her poor arched back and her dead-to-the-world husband.

He was sleeping with a passive expression, face facing the trinkets hovering near the ceiling. Ever since Sophie and he were married, his room remained almost unchanged, only looking tidier and less obstructed by the many charms he used to escape the King, Sulliman and the Witch of the Waste. Howl had changed in good ways: even though he still had the vain tendencies and a bad hobbit of wanting to slither out of his daily chores, the wizard became a tad more dutiful, actually helping out the country to rebuild itself after the horrible war, and even going to help some wizards who were stuck in their beast form, telling them to focus and remind themselves of what they were truly at heart.

Speaking of heart, it seemed that Howl's grew as well, slowly but surely. He matured form a young child unable to love properly to a charming man, inducing many blushes from his little mouse. Although he himself didn't bother bringing this up as he was mercilessly teased when Calcifer reminded him of the way his face was tinting a deep crimson each time he tried to propose to Sophie.

Either he got too nervous around her, or her was interrupted by someone knocking on Kingsbury's door to present him yet another summon to return the hack wizards who attacked him during war back to their human forms. Each time this happened, his face would take a scowl in stride and he would sit down on a nearby bench to work out his old notes of the Sorcery Academy, searching for a reverse spell or something which might trigger the beast wizards' memory of their former body.

But fortunately, in the end, Howl managed to ask Sophie a life-toppling question, to which she answered with a happy yell and a huge hug, knocking him off his foot and knee and into the ground.

Nevertheless, it was a happy day, and so were the following ones.

Although they were still waiting for the official papers, Sophie and Howl had already adopted young Markl in their mind. He was such an adorable sweetheart, and Sophie's heart melted completely when he started sauntering joyfully around the field and the castle, Heen's wheezing form trailing limply behind him like a flying carpet ruffled by the wind, when the couple announced they'd be much more than happy to have him as their child.

Concerning the Witch of the Waste, she seemed content to stay in the castle with their company, acting more and more like a grandmother, albeit her old nature as a witch awoke when she was showing Markl how to perform a spell properly, going into 'Teacher mode', her eyes showing excitement and experience.

And in the wee hours of night, here was Sophie, sitting up and frustrated at herself. She was weary, unable to have a proper eight hours straight of sleep, because someone had deemed _he_ wanted to move around and kick the sleep out of his mother.

Because yes, dear readers, Sophie formerly-Hatter was pregnant.

_Very _pregnant at that.

For the past seven months, everyone in the castle had observed with amazement how Sophie's once slim form swelled progressively, her stomach taking the size of an oversized air balloon, except that in her case, her stomach was full with a child.

In the beginning, he was calm, as he was almost inexistent, only a tiny mass of cells. But by the days and nights, the little baby grew, expanding Sophie's stomach to accommodate him; and slowly, Sophie lost of her motricity, unable to bend over to pick up a fallen spoon or sleeping correctly at night without her child kicking out and waking her up.

The starlight-haired woman was tired, almost on the brink of tears. It didn't help she couldn't get a good night's sleep, but the visible dark rings under her eyes coupled with her huge stomach pretty much devalued her own self-esteem. When Howl, _or _the former Witch of the Waste, _or _Calcifer, _or _even little Markl (!) finally let her take care of the flowers or the customers at the shop, Sophie couldn't help but be envious of those slim women and fresh countenance, radiating health and joy, while she was wallowing in her poor sleep and eating enough to even rival Howl's appetite (for a slender man, her husband ate a _lot_).

Something shifted on her side, and soon, she was brought unceremoniously (but carefully and gently) back on the mattress, two arms slinging around her shoulders and under the curve of her bulging stomach, one leg shamelessly draped over hers, and soon, Sophie's husband breathed in her ear, warm and sleepy, "Whash wrong, Shophie?"

"Nothing much, just thinking of how sleeping was easier when I wasn't pregnant," she answered non-committedly, turning her head to look into his eyes, which appeared brighter and more aware: awake.

He held her stare for a minute before his gaze slid over her form, resting finally on her protuberance, his hand caressing the curve fondly. "Want me to talk to him? I've heard a father's voice could calm down the baby."

She smiled at his carefulness, but let him do; clearly unconvinced of the benefict he was speaking of. "Would you listen here, little man," his voice began slightly scolding, but tender, as he leaned over her stomach, one ear resting on it, "I know you're edgy of staying in Sophie's stomach for seven months, but do you think you could stay calm only for two more months: question of letting your mother rest and enjoy her beauty sleep?"

With that, he turned back to his wife, who had just recently snorted, "Beauty sleep? That's a foreign concept for children, you know?" She was smiling despite this.

Howl rolled his dark eyes, but crawled back to his place on the bed, turning Sophie on her side and holding her to him. "You know you don't need it, anyways: to my eyes you'll always be beautiful, pregnant or not," he whispered tenderly, quickly letting sleep claim him.

And with those sweet words in mind a more peaceful baby, Sophie slipped into the sweet delight of night.

Eventually, it would become a routine: Howl shushing his child and talking about how much he'd prefer to not be kicked whenever he hugged his wife, and her giggling at his antics, more amused at his many facial expressions and the exasperated words that came out of his mouth than anything else. _("Honestly, if our kid turns out to be as demanding as I am, I'm letting Calcifer raise him," _he'd say, throwing his arms in the air before jumping on the bed, muffling his face in his pillow.)

But still, Howl never failed to give his wife one compliment every evening (even for some months after she gave birth to his boy…)

* * *

_"I'll update tomorrow" Yeah right, so much for that..._

_BUT AT LEAST THIS ISN'T MY SHORTEST! (it's the 3rd shortest but I no care... bleeergh)._

_Anyways holidays are over, noooooooo! :( But I'm still alive! :)_

_Next chappie (Rukia! Bleach! White bunny!): Hug her for as long as possible. I have a cute idea for this, buuuut... but what? I'll just write...-.-.-.  
_

_-_- (sometimes I feel like my brain can argue with itself for hours)_

_Anyways, thank you mayfire21, siwfty13izme, weskerlinne, Topsiekret, Super, maricelagarcia965 and all Guests for your reviews, it means a lot! :)  
_

_'Melia, muching cookieeeeeeeeeeeeees! :3 (*omnomnomnom, agaiiiin*)_


	9. Hug Her for Long

**One word to sum up why I haven't updated for this: School.**

**Yep, you heard me; 'cause as soon as we go back to school: EXAM OF THIS EXAM OF THAT STUDY FOR THIS DOCUMENT TO GIVE MFFNF WBFKDBFB…**

**My life, in a nutshell….**

**Oh well, movie-verse! **

**Disclaimer: You know the song. I ain't singing.**

**In Which Howl Gets to Sophie's Heart**

**Chapter 8: Hug Her for Long**

The air was splitting in two, it blew in his eyes and blinded him, but he plunged, deeper and faster, for her sake. He barely managed to grasp onto his consciousness, a monster clawing and pulling at his mind, ordering for him to let go and let him in control, but Howl refused to heed him.

He had to save her.

He dove over the bomb, arching his back and sending tons of magic into the machine to make its internal clock stop ticking. He felt the air rushing around him, and soon, he crashed to the ground, surrounded by the floating and burning specks blown around by the other bombs he couldn't disarm. The heat was searing, and his wings trembled with the terrible strain he had put on them when he tried to shield himself, but he feebly got back up, half-arched onto his midsections, lungs burning and throat welling up at the harsh dust he inhaled.

A smell of death and destruction wrapped around him in a hot shell, burning and melting and slowly decaying; he could feel his feathers _wanting _to retreat back into his body, and his senses were straying, eyes showing him a blurry vision of distorted shades of red, orange and bright yellow. But when he uncoiled, he caught sight of something tall and thin, the lower part of it blue and the highest part silvery. Howl couldn't make sense of the being, but his ears caught a faint 'Howl!' and the monster tethering to bring him back into the darkness disappeared, fading into deep and dark despair.

He smiled subconsciously. Reaching out a singed arm, still hanging on the bomb's tail, he made the link between the sweet voice and the little mouse he met on May Day. He tried to whisper her name, but it fell on deaf ears, or maybe he was just unable to utter one syllable, but nevertheless, after stumbling on debris and broken rocks, the woman made it to him and threw her arms around his torso, hugging him tightly.

All Howl could do was hug her back with one arm, shaking on his own legs as soon as he let go of the tail of the bomb, but thankfully was able to bring his other arm around her blue-clad shoulders. She was soft and sweet and tender, something he longed to have ever since he went out to fight in this horrible war. Sophie, feeling him return her attention, pulled back as far as he'd allow her (which is to say, not much, maybe about two inches), croaking out his name in a sad and worried wail before burying her nose (which was not so long anymore, too, since she was her rightful age and appearance, except for her long silver hair) again in his toned chest, looking to comfort both herself and him.

Meanwhile, all Howl did was smile gently at her and tighten his embrace, feeling that in the whole of his chest, something ached and moaned and scratched; his heart wanted back its position. He felt he never wanted to let go; he desired to stay away from the fire (no pun on Calcifer), but also craved to protect her, make sure she would never be harmed by the war or never lose her innocence: she still believed in anyone's kind side too blindly to let her out, especially with the hack wizards running amok in the country and Sulliman's henchmen lurking nearby.

Sophie was warm, not the harsh hot fire he had fought against and which singed his feathers, but the cool warmth. Kind of ironical, but she calmed down his raging instincts, his inner monster's sudden craving for guts and war, and made his brain fuzzy. Howl wanted to hold her, all of her, and shield her gentle self forever, imprinting an image of her comforting hug and her curves in his mind, as a drive force, something he'd hold against his demon (not Calcifer again) every time he'd try to take over, like those hack wizards.

Sophie also seemed to share his thoughts. And so they stayed, tight in a lovers' embrace, before the blobs garbed in soldiers' clothes started oozing and bubbling, reforming into a grotesque and oversized ball and fitting their limbs through every holes and cracks. Howl's eye narrowed menacingly, and he reluctantly began moving forward to the flower shop's remain of an entrance (while his mind gleefully rejoiced in Sophie clinging to his neck), wings spread to his sides to shield his little mouse from the blobby henchmen. As soon as they passed the threshold, a winding spell cast Sulliman's spies outside, locking the door on its way. He wished that those blobs didn't exist, as it'd have given him an excuse to hold Sophie longer.

He floated near the hearth, where young Markl was looking at him expectantly, a pinkish smoke filling the castle's main room. His hands had stayed around Sophie, securing her to him, and it took all his will to let go of her, forcing himself to save Calcifer first from the slug he'd been fed by the Witch of the Waste, and then demanding to said Witch to extinguish the toxic cigar she was smoking, burning more of his abused feathers. He politely curtsied to her, partially grateful she took care of Sulliman's slug spy, but also mad at the inconsideration and neglect which almost killed both him and Calcifer.

Then, with his business done and heart secure once more, Howl turned back, resting his hands on Sophie's shoulders. They were sturdy, not shaking like the first time he'd slung his arms around them to protect her from those bad-flirts of soldiers, and they pleasantly stayed put, even as his fingers dug in the fabric and his thumbs brushed softly against her skin, her too distracted by his abrupt departure to notice how he lingered around her, giving her all of his attention.

He told her to stay safe in the castle, as Calcifer (and his heart and charm around her finger) would protect her while he was away. He sadly let go of Sophie, descending the stairs when she cried out his name, flinging herself at his back and her arms securing her hold on his waist, fingers fisting in the raven feathers. She was on the brink of tears, pleading him to stay a little and run away, but Howl was already resolute on leaving to fight for her.

He brought his hands to hers, wishing he could turn around and hug her some more, but knew that if he did so, he'd never bring himself to let go again. Instead, he told her of how he was through running away, as he had someone he wished to place above himself for the first time: her.

And he left, not glancing back.

…_x…_

He was breathing hard, stumbling over his form. There was something atop of his chest, crushing it as an invisible hand reached and pressed his bones and organs to the floor beneath him, translucent fingers grasping a pumping muscle and lifting it higher. It was almost tearing him apart, as if his heart wanted out again, not liking its new life and caretaker, while his lungs were pushed to his back‒

A heart?

What?

Noises crowed at his ears, ringing in his brain and echoing again and again. His eyelids crunched up in displeasure, and he forced himself to wake up from his rest, wincing at the sharp pain his chest was struck with as he sat up on his elbows. He asked what the ruckus was all about, when he saw her again: his girl in the blue fabric and silver hair.

Short silver hair.

But Howl recognized the eyes: the same chocolate and warm orbs, which brought rest to the storm raging in his body, as she exclaimed in a ray of splendor of how a heart was a heavy burden.

Indeed it was, was his first thought. Then, he commented on her hair color, something he had forgot to mention the first time he saw her in her young state with silvery hair in a proper braid (at the meadow of his childhood, full of flowers), comparing its tone to starlight and its beauty, to which she answered joyfully of how she liked it too and promptly threw herself at him again, his eyes widening in surprise and barely lifting his arms around her waist to make sure she wouldn't topple over his head so much her momentum was strong for such a petite woman.

Albeit at that, Howl's face landed in her slender neck, short strands of silver softness tickling his nose, but the wizard was too preoccupied by thoughts of finally getting another hug from his beloved to mind the state they were in, even as his body ached out in pain and the strain he'd inflicted on it in his bird state.

They stayed in this position for hours, Sophie weeping gently in his hair as he caressed her back, Markl's elated and childish 'Aahh', as when a kid was given a great gift, slipping away as it was only the two of them in their own world of mush and heartfelt (on both sides) reunions.

The couple was oblivious to everything else, except for the other's warm and sweet embrace.

They loved to hug.

…_x…_

"_Howl?"_

"_Yes, dear?"_

"_When will you let go of me? I have to make breakfast for Markl and Calcifer, and Granny too…"_

"_That's a good question, but I don't think my answer is worth enough, so I guess that I'll have to stay here _all_ day to ponder it."_

"… "

_a sigh,_

"_You are seriously hug-addicted, Howl…"_

* * *

_Me like fluff, but me also tired = dilemma and weird story turn..._

_Anyways, 2 third done, woop woop! :) And next one's going to be... Say I Love You!_

_Ok, no, it's I Love You, because the previous title reminds me too much of the anime Say I Love You, which I completely dropped after maybe 2 minutes of watching? Even the manga got too repetitive and I was lost and... oh who cares?_

_Enjoyii, movie-verse again :)_

_'Melia, cookiessss :3_


	10. I Love You

**I'M SOWWWWYYYYYYYYY! ****((((**

**It's been 10 days and I didn't update! Shame on me!**

**But honestly, I didn't have any free time this week**** -**** schoooooool. :S**

**Any-ways, ****2 600 views guys, you're AWESOME! :3**

**Disclaimers: D.W.J & H.M A. G. (Diana Wynne Jones and Hayao Miyazaki are geniuses).**

**In Which Howl Gets to Sophie's Heart**

**Chapter 9: I Love You**

"Mornif Fofie," a sleepy voice muttered, its owner descending the stairs one step at a time and rubbing his eyes tiredly. His mighty yawn almost ripped his jaw, but it seemed to hold on as the sleepy man made way for himself to the chair besides his beloved 'Fofie'. He slumped on it, hunching on the table and folding his arms on the wooden surface to make a suitable pillow for his head, facing the young woman at his side.

She had a small smile on her face, and went to ruffle gently his unruly hair, softly raking her fingers through the silky strands, earning herself a small murmur of 'thanks' as his eyes closed at her ministration. Howl had often been tired these days, as the King was asking more of the courageous man: reconstructing a whole war-ravaged country was no small feat, even for the powerful Royal Wizard.

He pushed a sigh beyond his dry lips, reaching out with his right for her hand which he took greedily, pulling the member nearer until the smooth skin of the back was against his cheeks. Her fingers moved, the back of the digits caressing his face, her melodious and soft voice asking him to wake up properly.

It took him a while, but Howl managed to comply.

He stretched his arms outwardly before heading for the stairs for his bath, stopping for a split second to turn and mumble, "Sophie? Do you…By any chance, are you…? Never mind, I'll tell you later."

And he left a confused Sophie to her questions.

…_x…_

Ever since that morning, Howl acted weird, stranger than the usual. When he came home from a meeting with the King, the wizard could never help but complain about how many useless formalities there was to respect, whether it be with the Councillors of other countries or the Royalty of Ingary itself, albeit about a month ago, the slim man kept silent more and more about his work.

He looked deeply in thought, whether he was eating, or bathing, or working on his spells, and even his morning greetings lacked the enthusiasm and energy he was brimming with. At first, Sophie worried; she asked Calcifer whatever was wrong with Howl, for she knew her wizard wouldn't present her with a satisfactory explanation, but the fire demon only snickered in his logs, a lazy drawl etched in flames, as if telling her, 'You'll see if he ever stops dancing around the bush.'

What was even more freaky was how more dependable he became: he helped out at the flower shop when customers were being too picky or too many, asked Sophie daily if she needed anything (from clothes to groceries, _groceries!_) and even agreed to teach her how to control the latent magic in her.

These days, Howl's baths were scarcer and shorter; instead of the daily hour-long wash, he was prepped and fresh after only 30 minutes, a miracle in itself! Sophie wondered the meaning of this (and his behaviour for the past days), but Howl only smiled in that secretive way of his, twirling a lock of her hair and saying, "Is it wrong for me to want to help my family?"

And Sophie had no answer for that.

…_x…_

To solve the mystery of this new-Howl, Sophie decided (albeit with reluctance) that she'd resort to her old woman ways: snoop.

It was weird for her, to look through Howl's drawers and shelves, even though they were lovers, but after the first few hesitant times where her mind told her it was wrong to spy on someone, even for their sake, Sophie's brain retorted with logic, "And what if it's something life-threatening? Would you say it's still morally wrong?"

And during her curiosity-driven streak, all the dust she accumulated driving her outside, Sophie found a little wooden door just behind the castle, one she wasn't aware of, as moving day was about six months ago.

Inquisitiveness grasping hold of her in the natural human way, the young woman went and grasped the iron knob, twisting it left, then right, but alas, it always stopped midway, as if blocked by something on the other side. Frowning, Sophie put all her strength into turning the knob with both hands, and after moments, the door yielded, letting her in and greeting her with a gray cloud of floating dust.

Sophie coughed a few times, trying to eject the tiny specks, and when her watery eyes (due to the strength of her cough) were dry once more, the young woman threw her gaze on the ash-like blanket covering the room, a scowl marring her pretty young face at the mess inside.

Books were thrown haphazardly on the ground, some of their papers creased and folded as the cover faced the ceiling, while invisible particles floated and became visible under the light filtering through half-cleared windows and stained glass. The shelves were overkilled with books and notes of all sorts, yellowy papers poking out from even behind the rack in a desperate attempt of being noticed and cherished. On the ground, Sophie could barely make out a burgundy carpet and its fancy pattern, hiding pathetically behind a thick gray layer, as she sneezed once again, uncovering more of the excuse for a mat.

Blowing air harshly to move aside a strand tickling her eyes, Sophie noticed that in far end of the bizarre room, just besides a set of old-looking stairs, a curtain hung around helplessly, attached to the top of the open entry by only a crooked nail, proof of someone having conjured the thing up quickly, as an afterthought.

Ever more intrigued (and half hoping to find something to clean the mess with), Sophie marched toward the limp cloth, her footsteps dulled by the grayish carpet, and finally, with her left arm, the young woman pushed the curtain aside only to discover;

Howl.

Sleeping even though he was supposed to work.

Her eyebrow ticked at the nerve of the man, who slithered-out of her questions by going to whatever this place was and secluding himself in for hours (making her worry as she believed Howl was out for so long), and she shouted an outraged, "_Howl Jenkins! What_ in the name of _Ingary _do you think you're doing, you lazy man?"

Suffice to say, this woke up the wizard in a jiffy. His arm, which was covering his eyes, left place for panicked and alert orbs, hair flying out in sharp lines as if they had a life of their own and ran for dear life in all directions, and hands flailing up and down in an endeavor of not falling on the ground (the couch he was on was very narrow, but fit his lean figure), but he failed miserably, his torso spilling from the settee and finding a place of rest on the solid floor, always there to catch you.

"Oh hello, dear!" he threw out with a smile at catching the sight of his beloved. It managed to catch her off guard momentarily, still surprised at how fast he could change moods (he looked like a walking-dead during the past weeks, sleepy yet dutiful, and here he was now, casually greeting her as if he did this everyday… well maybe because he used to do so before he got the famous mood swing), but she quickly regained her blazing look, "Just what were you doing here, Howl? I thought you were having a meeting with the King and his Councillors."

With a grace only he possessed, Howl got up on his feet, brushing the dust on his pants and then locking his hip to one side, bringing the hand of the opposite side into a well-hidden pocket. "I happen to think the King can make do without me, he has other Royal Wizards after all," he began with a thoughtful look (which Sophie knew was fake), and taking in the sight of her pretty flushed face, her nose scrunched up at her previous indignation and eyes twisted into an accusatory glare, "But what are you doing here, Miss Nose? Surely not on another cleaning streak?"

"For your information, I was _not _on one of your so-called 'cleaning streaks', mister," she said, (I was on a snooping streak, she thought fast), "I was looking for something and I happened to find you here, snoozing your life away as if nothing was wrong in the world." She ended her sentence with a pointing finger, moving it up and down to emphasize that _he _was doing something wrong.

An agreeing grumbling made way from the back of his throat, and when his expression sifted to one of uncertainty, brows furrowing a little, Howl took a large breath, his words coming out in a fast jumble. "CanIaskyouaquestion?"

Her face portrayed her feeling; confusion. "Excuse me, what?"

He cursed aside, and proceeded into closing the distance between them, taking both her dainty hands in his much bigger ones, slender fingers curling around deft digits. He ignored her stammer and the way her face flushed some more, his own ears tinting pink at the thought of what he was actually going to say.

"Sophie," he murmured her name gently, lovingly, his thumbs tracing circles on the back of her hands in what he hoped was a soothing manor. He sighed, bangs falling and hiding his expression for a split-second before he faced the young woman in front of him once more, something akin to courage and hope twinkling in his eyes.

"I'm aware my behaviour must have confused you for the past weeks, right? W-well, I happen to have a good reason for this, so please hear me out."

At her lost look, he found justifications for continuing. "It's weird. Everything has been weird ever since you tumbled in my life. I know as a wizard, my life is bound to be extravagant and nothing ought to surprise me much, of course, this is me we are talking about," now he was ranting, "but the most important aspect of all is that this oddity you brought was very welcomed."

"You were a nagging old woman who couldn't keep her long nose off my charms and rooms; I remember your cleanliness almost scaring the living daylight out of Calcifer, and that's not something anyone can do, right? Ahh, sorry, I'm rambling, am I not?" He laughed nervously. "All in all, you were a peculiar old woman who managed to make a friend out of a fire demon, and who became more of a ‒ how to say? ‒ motherly figure to my little apprentice."

"And the more you stayed, the more you incrusted yourself in our lives. _Not _in a bad way, of course!" He added at her narrowed eyes. "It was nice; having someone taking care of us and the house, like a family. An odd and unique family, but one nonetheless."

"I have to admit, I tried once or twice to… charm you? I knew you were the pretty little mouse I met on May Day, even though I believed you liked to be old as I thought you kept the spell on yourself. Therefore, I wanted to tease you a bit; payback for the pan-of-bacon-hair." He now had a crooked smile on his face. "And it's true I tried to cure you two or three times, but all I could do for you was make your life easier and take care to not surprise you too much; I was afraid your heart would give out."

Howl stopped speaking for a second, licking his dry lips and tightening his hold on Sophie's hands, which were warmer, as she stayed silent, hearing him throw his heart out.

"About that," he attempted insecurely, "It was quite bizarre for me, because I cared for your heart's conditions more than my own. I thought that it was normal, since you were the first person to stand by me for so long, and I appreciated your company, but the more you stayed, the more I could _see _you. I mean, you were gradually becoming prettier and prettier, because you were gaining more self-confidence, and every time you sat by me, there was always a thumping in my chest, as if I still had my heart, but it was made of butterflies."

"I'm ashamed to say, though, that I was afraid of that feeling, and therefore, I locked myself in my room. It was also an attempt to win your attention, since if you thought I was going to conquer your little sister; then I'd be on your mind."

"So time passed, and the little monsters were always there, added with a touch of Calcifer and a heavy dose of Sophie; it almost made me crazy, because I couldn't figure out _what in the world _I was feeling."

"But I knew, when you went to save Miss Angorian, for the sake of my happiness, that I _couldn't _let you go. Ever," he ended his speech with a blazing look of intense feelings, their depths going far and wide. Howl's eyes were aflame, and his hair setting around his face in a gentle halo gave the impression he was near the end.

"I went to save you, and I told you the truth when we were riding the wind, right? And now, to sum up all of my past self's weird behaviour…"

Howl knelt down, bringing Sophie's hands into one of his and presenting her with a little opened black velvety box with his other. He heard her sharp intake of air, but paid it no attention, as he attempted to put into words what he was feeling.

"Sophie Hatter, tormentor of my spider and bane of all which is unclean, I love you unconditionally," he began seriously, "I would be perfectly happy co-depending on you for the rest of my life, and even though my behaviour was somewhat mysterious for the past days, I admit proudly that it is because I was looking for a way to ask you."

"Sophie, would you do me the honour of becoming my wife?"

Tears had sprung in her eyes, making the orbs glassy and puffy. The salty water drops were sliding on Sophie's pretty face, her cheeks flushed in embarrassment and happiness. Unable to talk, as her throat had grown tighter and tighter as Howl went through his speech, Sophie nodded vigorously, flinging herself at the kneeling man. He caught them both as they tumbled on the ground and Howl felt as if a heavy burden was taken off from his heart.

When she lifted her head from the crook of his neck, the young man brushed her tears with his thumb and slid the ring on her dainty digit, before planting a light kiss on her palm and her fingers and lacing his with hers.

Goodness, he really loved that woman.

* * *

_Yeeeeshh, this ain't good at all, 10 days without updating and then this ^ _

_Oh, well... I can't do much about this, can I? I don't want to rewrite it, but it's okay I guess... :P_

_Oh, and a shoutout to MeatAngel for having posted a new HMC story! Huzzah! More HMC goodness for the fandom And thank you kawaiisuzu for having updated Seven Nights after months of fervent hoping. :D_

_Oh, and this week, I'll probably be posting a Ranma/Akane one-shot. It's already written, so no need to wait for long. :)_

_Besides that (gotta say something else than 'oh'), we're 3 fourths dooooooonnneeeeeeee. :DDD Next one is: Brush the hair out of her eyes. :P_

_'Melia, cookie timeeeeeeee :D_


	11. Brush the Hair Out of her Eyes

**Nextooo, just reread HMC (if you want it, just type Howl's Moving Castle download and you'll eventually find a link :P ) and my inspiration is baaaaack :D**

**And thank you senile-felines for reviewing three times in the same story in the same day **** made my day ~.^ (Btw, to answer you, Of Heartbreak and Confessions **_**is**_** posted, just check out my profile and other stories :P And cariad is a Welsh word (since Howl's from Wales) and it's a term of endearment, like 'love, darling' and all this :3 )**

**Disclaimer: Wonderful Diana Wynne Jones and Hayao Miyazaki, won't you lend me some of your genius?**

**In Which Howl Gets to Sophie's Heart**

**Chapter 10: Brush the Hair Out of her Eyes**

"I really miss him, Calcifer," mourned a tired Sophie Hatter, her head resting on the soft cushions she placed on Howl's favorite high-backed chair. She was sitting sideways, her head falling on the armchair and her legs pulled up to her chest so as to not dangle from the other side, her arms folded so her hands were resting under her cheeks. In this position, the sleepy woman had a perfect view on Calcifer, who stayed for the night as it has been quite a while since he remained in the castle for more than a few hours.

The fire demon looked as if he wanted to reply, but with a mouthful of cheese-covered bread, it was quite hard for him to do. He swallowed, moving closer to the woman, and said in a comforting voice he seldom used, "It will be okay; we're speaking of Howl, after all. If we both survived the Witch of the Waste, I guess we are pretty capable of everything."

Sophie smiled at her friend, reaching out to hold his tiny orange digits made of fire. It was hard, but she had finally mastered a spell enabling her to hold Calcifer without being burned at the touch, and since then, she felt as if the demon was closer to them all, a tangible member of their eccentric family. She murmured lowly what the fire figured was an agreement to his sentence, and both fell into a comfortable silence, until Calcifer announced he would go to sleep soon and bid her goodnight, retreating into his miniature castle of logs, white ashes circling the wood and giving it the appearance of a house in the middle of a white sandy beach.

This left Sophie to her thoughts, which spurned by her sleepiness, took the form of Howl's departure, assuring his little mouse he'd not be away for long. The King had demanded from his Royal Wizard to assist him with his visit into Strangia to sign the treaty of peace between both war-ravaged countries. 'With all their unnecessary formalities, it could take them an hour of meaningless discussion just to ask to sign a bout of paper,' he had said, preparing himself for the long trip.

He had donned the usual garb of Ingary's soldiers, a forest green tunic attached by a white belt around his waist, six golden buttons holding the open chemise closed. The ends of the sleeves were folded back, revealing a red material adorned with a yellow stripe. The collar was straight, and colored with alternated yellow and red stripes as well. Howl wore white slim pants and covered his feet in knee-high black boots, and to complete the ensemble, atop his head sat a green visored topper, a horizontal stripe of pink broken by another red one.

In her eyes, Howl turned out dashing (as he always did), but Calcifer's snickers were enough to put out the flamboyant wizard. His shoulders had slumped for a moment, until Sophie fixed the askew hat and brushed some of his inky wisps from his eyes, cupping his face and asking him to not take long. Immediately, his eyes took a warmer glow and he placed a chaste kiss on her lips, forgetting Calcifer's taunting words in the back. For a minute, it was only the two of them, but an impatient call from the King's adviser ruined the moment they were having.

Seeing he was close to departing with Sophie, Howl hugged her tightly, whispering in her eyes, "I'll miss you, dear. I promise I won't be long." And that was the last Sophie had seen of Howl for about an entire month.

The first few days were bearable, as many young women filled the flower shop and left rather disappointed as Sophie informed them Howl was on a month-long trip, and had the place busy, but soon, boredom installed itself in Sophie's routine. The woman started missing Howl's eccentric ways, as they always managed to light up her day and make everything so less mind-numbing. At the same time, Sophie also understood why the wizard wanted to stay clear of Madam Sulliman; she wanted to stifle Howl's creativity.

But this imagination, this childlike personality, was what made Howl _Howl. _His spells, his flamboyancy, his never-drying energy and happiness, always radiating from him in pure waves, touched her heart. Howl was a sweet man; endearing and sunny, but also quite flawed, as he still felt quite insecure when someone questioned his looks in front of Sophie (he wanted to impress her so badly, the nice man), or whenever he was prone to tantrums (which once involved lots of sliming).

As such, the absence of Howl's energy made the castle feel quite lethargic, as if someone had stolen the sun. Even more since Sophie was in love with the man, this month felt quite long. Of course, little Markl and Granny were always there, and she frequently visited Césari's for free cakes (which she always shared equally between the child, the old woman, the fire demon, and occasionally, Heen), but their presence couldn't compare to a loved one's.

So during the evenings, and while the nights were young, Sophie went to Calcifer, who took the role as confident and protector while Howl was away, and spoke to him about everything and nothing. She listened to his eager explanations about the world outside, or his witty remarks about the fires of the forests, always feeling more light-hearted and happy to see her blazing friend glowing with barely supressed excitement.

That particular day, Calcifer had been back, exclaiming quite loudly he'd stay for about two weeks before he visited the world once more. As such, Markl was excited, following the little orange flame and eyes sparkling in wonders as the fire demon narrated his adventures, saying quite exaggeratedly, "Listen, boy, to the Adventures of the Great Calcifer!"

This had pushed Markl's imagination to be boundless, running around the castle in a frenzy to imitate a hero on a great quest, even shouting from the top of the stairs, "People of the castle, I am here to defeat the mysterious dragon of Ingary!" At times, Sophie had to run behind her little protégée to ensure his security, and this left them both tired. The red-head went to sleep early, leaving Sophie waiting in front of the hearth, as she recently began to do, Howl's trip coming to an end soon.

But right now, the silver-headed woman had succumbed to sleep once more, deep and even breaths escaping her mouth in small puffs. In this unconscious state, Sophie missed the slight creaking of the entrance and the metal of the dial hissing softly as the red part pointed up by itself. A dark figure entered, closing rapidly the door on fading trumpets and festivities. He walked soundlessly near the hearth, heaving a heavy sigh, as he stared at the form of his sleeping friend.

He called softly Calcifer's name two or three times, but obtaining no response, the green-clad figure turned to the nearby chair, all intent on sitting down for a slight break. Instead, waiting on the cushions was the sleeping Sophie, whose silver hair was hiding part of her face. The man knelt down, ungloving his left hand before caressing the woman's cheek, brushing the silver wisps from her forehead and nose with his thumb to uncover her creamy complexion. He bit back a smile at how cute she looked when she stirred, her eyes opening but feeling lost in the darkness. Finally, the pupils had grown wide enough to recognize the dark form over her.

"Howl!" she croaked in a voice a little hoarse from her sleep. He grinned at the way her face positively lit up at the sight of him, and before he got the chance to greet her, Sophie had already fallen half-way into his arms, their legs a jumble of members and clothes. He laughed huskily, the breath knocked out of him for a split-second, "I missed you too, dear."

"How was your trip?" she asked as he moved to a sitting position, holding the woman's shoulders with his left and her legs with his right, her arms still locked tightly around his neck. He shrugged, eyes slanting to half their normal open position, his face radiating the boredom he felt at the meeting. "You know, the usual fashion for old men to express their wishes elaborating long, complex and overdone sentences which end up meaning absolutely nothing." She looked confused at his wording, and he laughed, passing his hand through her soft hair. How he had missed doing this; holding Sophie and talking to her!

She leant closer, nuzzling his cheek as her hands played with the baby hair at the nape of his neck. "In all cases, I'm glad you're back, Howl," she whispered gently. He nodded, feeling grateful for being back so early to his little mouse.

* * *

_"This girl (me) is on fireeeeeee!"_

_Yes guys, an update only two days after my last one :) Only two more to go, and we're done! :)_

_Next one, Comfort Her When She Cries (Oulala, je me demande comment je vais faire?)_

_'Melia, cookie timmme :3_


	12. Comfort Her When She Cries

**Next ooonnnne ~ **

**Almost done, this one, and next chapter and…and…I DON'T WANT THIS TO EEEENNNNNNDDDDD :(((((**

**But… *sniff, sniff*, I SHALL POST ANOTHER HMC STORY SOOON, muahahha! And I think it's going to be even longer (like an alphabet or a story with a real plot/an antagonist/ fluff/ angst/ and alllllll the shish kebab :P)**

**Anyways, let's go!**

**Disclaimer: DWJ was English, I am not. Hayao Miyazaki is Japanese. I am not. I'm a poor girl writing for the sake of HMC-fluff! **

**In Which Howl Gets to Sophie's Heart**

**Chapter 11: Comfort Her When She Cries**

He had draped a casual arm over her shoulder, giving her a place to rest her head on if she ever felt tired. It was quite late, and Sophie seemed to much engrossed by the action rolling in front of her bright eyes to be bothered by something as trivial as time. It would have been ironic if they weren't there, as _she_ would have fussed over Howl because he used to slave over his work far in the night, sometimes needing to be dragged away from his work and to his bed by his little mouse.

Howl was thinking about everything and nothing, wincing as another fake wet cry roared over the huge room and was echoed by many others. The wizard who had a tendency of overexaggerating what did not suit him or his present fancy into a small drama was actually put out by the play performed in front of him. Even the actor's well done representation seemed overdone, as they cried out in fake pain, hollering their lines out and clear, the crowd gasping behind in indignation and utter horror.

Far up, in the balcony, Howl's eyes had caught the glimpse of golden shine, probably the King's brooch reflecting the projectors, and as he tilted his head upward in the balcony's direction, he found the King of Ingary looking extremely thoughtful, his bushy mustache twitching in wonder as he mumbled under his breath, as if deciphering the piece's meaning, while the older nobles of the country murmured haughtily behind their hands, not subtle enough to be unseen. They all looked in their rightful place, imposing and glorious, as if higher beings, and Howl's attention was diverted once more as Sophie shuddered by his side, hiding her face into his shoulder as another soldier cried out for vengeance.

He actually enjoyed those small moments she relied on him to tell her the gore was over, staring with timid eyes at him until he placed a kiss on her temple. A warm feeling would bloom in his chest, spreading to his feet and the tip of his fingers, and settle back into his heart. After this, she would snuggle into his side and he'd play with her fingers, quite bored.

It wasn't as if he hadn't had any fun during the evening, but when Howl and Sophie were quite ready to go home, feet sore and stomach full from all the dancing and the food, the King proclaimed he had a surprise for everyone's enjoyment; a new play like no over ever saw.

Apparently, from what he read, it was a tragedy relating the tale of two Royals, sworn to love each other, even beyond their families' endless and violent quarrels. As of yet, Howl had seen nothing but overly dramatic and tragic harsh slurs, the overdone fake cries of Capulet soldiers lamenting Tybalt's death and scorning Romeo for the death of the proud noble casting a heavy silence onto the audience.

Hearing small sniffles left and right, Howl surveyed the crows, noticing that many men were looking as out of their mind, if not more, than him, slumped in their chair and arms crossed, while young girls and older ones were already contorting their face into sad grimaces over Tybalt's apparent death. Or maybe they were just sad the handsome actor playing the role was not going to come back onto the stage until the end of the play, as every player had only one assigned character.

Either way, they were bawling their eyes out, but thankfully, stayed silent. Of course they had to, since if they expressed their feelings as loudly as Howl had the habitude of doing in the castle, then everyone would have left the place with their eardrums busted for a sad entire lifetime.

Returning his attention onto the stage once more and drooping his head against Sophie's, bringing her closer to him for comfort, Howl's eyes quickly half-closed upon the dull scenery, a filler scene, he knew. Its role consisted of pausing or slowing the story enough to let the players catch their breath, while others distracted the onlookers with simple hat-tricks and overdone dramatics, as kind of a side-story, related to the main one.

But Sophie seemed enraptured by the side-play, and Howl only closed his eyes in boredom, stifling a heavy sigh at how tired and long and dreary this evening was becoming. Even as a man of flowery words, a romantic deep at heart (but he'd never admit this to anyone, if asked), and prone to antics similar to a child's, the play was zapping any energy he had left, as one would find it easier to sleep in the middle of a boring course.

What woke the half-asleep wizard were Sophie's soft whimpers, his alarmed eyes focusing alertly only on her small form. But as she dug the play out, Howl deduced her tears were merely a reaction out of a sad and woesome event on the stage, and produced a tissue from under his sleeve. Handing it over to her motionless hands, nudging the members until she grasped half-mindedly the tissue in a loose grip, Howl reflected his attention to the drama with a supreme effort, hoping with all his heart (oh! How he loved that expression!) it was almost over.

And good gracious it was!

From what Howl could actually understand in their gibberish nonsense, an apothecary sold Romeo a deadly poison, which acted quite quickly and thoroughly. The Montague Prince managed to kiss his beloved (and seeming dead) Juliet, and left the world tragically. Then, his fair princess woke up, analyzed the situation out loud, and just as her dear Romeo, exhaled one last tragic breath.

As such ended the play of the star-crossed lovers.

And Howl's dreadfully extended boredom.

On his side, Sophie shifted once more, and she buried her face into his chest, just below his collarbone. Her quavering shoulders were sending vibrations into his body, and small sobs came from her. Howl sighed unabashedly once more, and brought a hand to caress her hair, shushing her gently as all men around stood up, following the King's example, to applaud and congratulate the actors for their fabulous play and performance, as they bowed low to the audience, thanking them for their silence and presence. All this noise covered up the girls blowing their tissues quite loudly, many sounds akin to trumpets sizzling the once silent atmosphere.

Meanwhile, Sophie gasped something akin to, "This was– "sob, "the most pitiful," her throat closed up miserably, "and unhappy–"she sucked in a hard long-suffering breath, "e-ending I have ever seen." Howl frowned at her obvious tears, questioning his previous decision to let innocent, kind and emotive Sophie watch such a classic tragedy as _Romeo and Juliet. _Brushing his qualm and regret aside, as he wanted to focus wholly on his beloved, Howl wrapped another arm around her small form, murmuring in her ears words of endearment untilher sobs subsided.

Then, he took her chin between a slender forefinger and thumb, tilting her head up to assert her eyes were not teary anymore. Nevertheless, Howl still brushed his chapped lips against her closed eyelids, sliding to her damp and cold cheeks. He nuzzled her face and pulled back to rest his forehead against hers, and inwardly whooped in joy as her eyes took a more carefree and soft glow.

"Thank you," she breathed tenderly, stretching a little her neck to make their lips meet. It lasted for a heartbeat, but both members of the couple shuddered at the intense emotions coursing through them during the brief instant their lips touched. It was a mix of warm lighting, dazzling fire and colorful sparks with an added touch of salt (from Sophie's tears). Their skin tingled in delight and Sophie's pulse quickened, the flow of air increasing almost insignificantly.

Howl leaned in for another kiss, which he hoped would last longer than one heartbeat (_"maybe a hundred…"_), but suddenly, the theatre went silent, an eerie cricket chirping in the background. At this abrupt pause, Sophie's forefingers slid onto his lips, leaning away as she pointed to the balcony behind his head with her chin. Annoyed, Howl slid half-lidded eyes to the King and managed to drop against the crook of her neck, wishing the King of Ingary would not require his opinion or help.

Frankly, all he wanted to do was go home and sleep… (or kiss some more, whichever suited Sophie).

* * *

_Inspired from the movie we were watching in English class, which was about how Shakespeare was supposedly inspired to write Romeo and Juliet :P_

_And now, I shall die because of my maths exam coming Thursday, for which I am ready, but will fail, as our teacher is the demon herself... :(_

_One more, guyss, and 3000 vieewwwwws :3_

_'Melia, studying... (so boring) _


	13. Love Her With All Your Heart

**Finally, this comes to an end… I appreciate greatly all of you reviewers and viewers out there, as well as the favers and followers. **** It's the first time I broke twenty reviews, faves, follows, and this made me really happy. **

**So for all of you, and to end this with a great Wow, let's create a mini-monster, which I consider cute.**

**Disclaimer: Not now, not ever, unfortunately…**

**In Which Howl Gets to Sophie's Heart**

**Chapter 12: Love Her with All Your Heart**

The first time Howl Jenkins tried to kiss Sophie Hatter…

It was a gloomy day. Thunder clouds were nearing menacingly, their loud threats of rain and sharp serpentine beams of light uplifting the vision of the cities for only a fraction of second before disappearing into the earth without more than a huge sound of detonation. The dark grayish masses floated above, obscuring the skies and hiding the timid sun. They oppressed the atmosphere, bringing out everyone's moody side out, and were not very welcomed in the land of sunshine and magic, Ingary.

That very day, everyone wisely decided to stay home, secure and far, _far_ away from the shadowy lumps. They left the streets devoid of life, but some shouts could still be heard for those living near Porthaven; brave sailors were mooring their precious vehicles to the port, lowering the many sails for safe precaution. Meanwhile, young boys watched in wonder, their hero preparing themselves for the storm coming soon. Some of them were following older men, asking a thousand questions about how they would secure the ships, if it would hold against the tempest, and if it wasn't best to leave it to a wizard.

Exasperated, an old-looking mariner turned back to the horde and told them, with quite a thick accent, "Now ya listen 'ere, chaps. We ha'e no need for wizards or any friv_aw_lity o' the sorts to protect _aw_r boats. We're _men_, and we'll handle this _awr_selves, now beat it!" This didn't seem to deter the young fellows, as their enthusiastic 'Aahh', their wide awed toothy smiles and bright shining eyes gave the impression they were even more proud of the sailors for standing up to Mother Nature's whims, without the help of magic. They all resumed their previous activity (stalking another poor man and nagging him beyond imagination), but a lone child stayed put in place, shaking his reddish hair at the affected youths.

He turned back on his heels and left the dock, munching onto his bread with much gusto. He wanted to stay a bit more, but his food rations were drastically lowering, and he needed another refill, which he could only find at the Jenkins's shop. Besides, the ominous clouds on the horizon were so close, they almost touched the top of the highest buildings he could see, meaning he had to hurry if he didn't want to be soaked to the bones.

Finally, after hurrying up, his small feet clanking against the paved roads and a hand trailing on the exterior red bricks of houses, the small boy came to a medium-sized wooden door, and he knocked politely on it three times, stuffing what was left of his bread into his mouth, his cheeks puffing at the strain of withholding the big lump. He looked like a squirrel.

The door creaked lowly, and a nice smell escaped the interior as a silver-headed woman came in view, her brown eyes soft and calm. "Markl, I'm glad you're back. I almost went out to get you myself, you know?" she began gently, ushering the child inside. She went near the hearth, picking up a wooden spoon, and she asked him, her back still facing the room, "Would you like another piece of tuna?"

He made an agreeing sound, bringing out a chair and sitting on it, wrapping a napkin around his neck to protect his clothes against stains and crumbles. Then, a plate of delicious looking fish and bubbling cheese was set in front of him, as well as a pair of fork and knife, and a basket of bread right in front. The woman sat by his left, deposing a powder blue bowl on the table and a large olive timbered spoon, and looked out the window by the stairs, before turning back her attention on him as he ranted.

"You shee Shophie, they were sho many shailors, and they were all running around yelling _f_ings like, 'Lower the mainsail, make sure these ropes will hold out against the storm. _Brewy! _Didja secure this _blasted _rudder or do we have yet another catastrophe waiting on our heads?' and then we started following this man, and the guys annoyed him with our questions and he told us to leave him alone, and so everyone followed but I–" he cut himself off, swallowing a rather dry piece of tuna and bread with difficulty. It felt like it lodged itself in his throat, but the moment went, leaving his throat a little sore by the force he exerted with his muscles to bring down the food.

Sophie smiled at him, handing him a glass of orange juice he gulped greedily. With the napkins, he dabbed his mouth, and thanked her for the food. He turned to the stone hearth to thank Calcifer for keeping his dinner warm, but found the place devoid of life. Twisting on her chair and following his line of sight. Sophie informed him the flame was out for a stroll, before the rain began. "It was his last chance to enjoy his freedom, he said."

Markl nodded. A pleasant silence came, enveloping the castle in its invisible embrace, and Sophie began humming lightly, turning to face Markl and the hearth, and she placed the blue bowl in her laps, stirring the contents with the light brown spoon. The small boy, meanwhile, picked up a thick, blue-covered book, along with some crayons, and right in the middle of the room, he laid down on the ground, opening the paper stack and doodling random stickmen and stickwomen, one having peculiarly dark hair and dashing blue eyes, and the other wearing a matching blue dress, silvery hair flying in the wind. Both held their hands, a wide smile on their countenances.

Suddenly, a huge _CRACK! _boomed across the window, flashing strongly through the glass, making everything white for a split-second. Outside, the sailors' yells were heard, as they hurried out of sight, before they got the worst of the storms. It seemed that their job was over as well, as the boats stayed put, even as huge waves crashed against the steely hull. Another lightning crossed their sights, and then, the castle door burst open quite hard, its hinges squeaking in pain as the wood cracked against the flight of stairs banisters.

Two figures, one tall and lanky, the other small and fiery, entered the place shamelessly, as if the flashy appearance was not less to be expected from the former. Both child and woman lifted their heads to the new figures, curious. The small orange orb glowered, grumbling under his breath ominously dark words about the 'stupid rain, land of sunshine, my foot–', while the slim man shook of his coat, hanging it on the banisters before greeting his small family.

"Hello, everyone! I hope my absence didn't deter you all in this gloomy day." His voice was so hyped, Sophie was afraid Howl had come in contact with anything sugary. But by the merry tone of his voice, and his straight posture, it felt highly unlikely. She waved at him, greeting him silently, and his face seemed to lighten up even more.

Or maybe it was the effect of another hot white bolt of electricity.

Creaks came from the ceiling, a telltale sign of the old Witch dressed in purple having shifted in bed, but Sophie's attention was quickly stolen as Howl strode to her, grabbing the bowl and spoon, placing them on the table. He took hold of her hands and pulled her into a standing position gently. There was a weird gleam in his eyes, but he spoke none of it, as she stared back in confusion.

For moments, they only gazed in each other's eyes, feeling lost in waves of dreamy ocean blue (with a hint of turquoise), and warming chocolate tones, sweeter than honey. Howl's warmth seeped into her hands and smoothly spread from there to her toes and head, and Sophie wondered if it was the remains of his old contract with Calcifer which made his body so naturally warm. She blinked, as if realizing Howl was scrutinizing her face quite intently, and felt a blush creep up, plastering her cheeks with red. No matter how much he did this, it was quite embarrassing for the little mouse to receive such blatant attention.

Her mouth pursed in a little 'o' shape, and the man smiled smoothly. He leaned over, resting his forehead against her own, hands sliding to the small of her back. Instead of letting her now empty hands hanging, Sophie retaliated by bringing her members to splash on his chest, fingering softly the cold hard golden chain on his neck with the tips of her fingers, and admiring the sapphire stone attached to it.

It reflected many beams of light at her, from a green touch to an actually shocking tone of blue, a myriad of color shining unnaturally. It felt as if she held a rainbow, as some purple shimmered in silent beauty, its subtle tone bringing out another point of focus on the jewel. Sophie felt the man's chest rumble as he coughed unsubtly, trying to catch her attention back. When she _did _lift her eyes, she wanted to melt into the floor such his expression was serious yet loving.

He smiled and hugged her, closing the gap between them; his long slender fingers were digging into her back, but they didn't hurt. Even though his hands were warm, his body felt icy to the touch, and Sophie gasped softly as they embraced, shivers running through her spine. She could feel Howl's cold skin through the cotton shirt he was wearing, and berated him gently about how he should have taken more precautions and wore warmer clothes. In response, he chuckled lowly in her ears, his warm breath brushing against her sensitive skin and bringing out even more shivers on her part.

Sophie felt like falling, as her knees began to shake. She didn't know why, but his breath ghosting on her ears mollified her to the point she was afraid she would have fallen if he wasn't holding her so tightly. Still, the light tint of red on her cheeks intensified ever so subtly, spreading to the tip of her ears. Howl sighed at her closeness (she moved nearer to him when her knees threatened to buckle), and once again, Sophie's heart pounded like crazy, mad butterflies raving in her stomach.

Howl seemed to have noticed, as he pulled back a little to stare at her, if more lovingly than a man in love could. His half-lidded eyes were shaded a darker blue, almost navy, as if they held a secret and passion only known to him, which he would share with her soon. The glimmer spoke of promises of love and something more ardent, and a smirk adorned his face, giving him the irresistible, dashing, handsome look of the rogue he was before.

Sophie gulped shyly, not sure how to handle this part of Howl. The childish, yet so competent and proud wizard was okay. But this newer calmer, more silent, and - she dared to think - mysterious and mature Howl was something she never expected. It was rare for him to stare at her this way, but when it happened, Howl would never withhold this sultry gaze for more than two seconds, turning sharply his head aside and breathing through his nose a few times. And after that, he seemed more upbeat.

Not this time.

Her heart skipped a beat, banging madly against her ribcage as Howl leaned down, warm breath fanning over Sophie's now scarlet face. His eyes fluttered close, and so did hers, finally turning off the maddeningly yet dangerously heated navy orbs. Howl hitched Sophie against him in a jerky movement of arms - eliciting a breathy squeak from his partners - warm fingers trailing up her spine before cupping the back of her neck, tilting her head back so he could have a better access to her mouth. He could feel her eyelids squeeze closer even more, and her breath escaped her mouth in fast, erratic puffs in anticipation.

He tried to wrap his arms around her tighter, to feel her curves blend into his angles, and he breathed warmly over her face, her heart rate speeding up against her artery, which he could feel under his fingertips. This made him even more eager to close the useless gap between their lips, and fast.

He bent down, his skin tingling excitement and delight at finally being able to have a perfectly open occasion to kiss her, and he felt their nose touch. He was _so _close he could _almost _taste her sweet, soft, inviting parted lips, ready to receive his. And slowly, if not so painfully, he leaned down, tilting his head aside to not bump noses with her, and he could _feel _her lips, they were barely a millimeter apart, and his mouth _ghosted _over hers, before he crushe–

_CRACK!_

She eeped, her eyes opening in fright and surprise, and startled, bumped forehead against Howl. Both participants let go of each other, shouting 'Ow!' at the sudden pain blooming on the top of their faces, and when Howl finally opened his eyes, they were back to their normal shade of enamoring blue. But they held a light of disappointment and irritation, which Sophie only associated to their ruined opportunity.

She delicately pushed aside his heads, which had flown to his throbbing forehead, noting the skin was turning a little shade of red at the sudden hit. Yet, it didn't look like it had hurt much. She looked back at Howl, and smiled crookedly, as if saying, 'You can always expect nature to be against the two of us.'

And she could not agree more than with a radiant, if not lightly fleeting, smile.

.

The first time Howl Jenkins tried to kiss Sophie Hatter… ended in failure.

. . . ~ o ~ . . .

The second time Howl Jenkins tried to kiss Sophie Hatter…

It was, unlike the first time, a bright, sunny day. People chattered happily, hiding gratefully under the shades of trees or buildings, sometimes in the way of merchants and their horses, to their dismay (the merchant's, not the animals'). Little Markl had been working hard at the flower shop, and learning ceremoniously his spells by heart, practicing over and over and _over _in the flower field in case he made a mistake and the charm went out of hand. (He had managed to bespell a flower into adapting Sophie's no-nonsense attitude, which still amused Howl as the plant's leaves folded like a person crossing his arms whenever the wizard came and knelt down to the flower, cooing at it words of endearment he'd never dare utter to his beloved.)

In fact, this day was the first true breather the little apprentice had in _ages. _ (Well, not ages, he was still too young to have lived this long, but you get the point). In all cases, the boy was skipping merrily with other children near Césari's, playing hide-and-seek-tag. It was just like the original hide-and-seek, but when you were caught, you became the one who had to find the others, while the first person could go back and eat. Then, the last one standing (or hiding), would be proclaimed winner, while the first caught became the counter for the next round.

Their laughs filled the streets, and a little farther away, Howl and Sophie were sitting by a stained glass, keeping an eye on the mass of youths and eating fresh cakes. They'd have been three, if Calcifer had accepted their (Sophie's) invitation to spend the day with them. Instead, the fire demon declined. "Thanks for the offer, but I don't feel like hiding all day from those guys."

Indeed, the small flame was very popular with the children, as they found him fascinating. It also didn't help how the orange demon boasted about how _he _had managed to defeat the evil Witch of the Waste, as well as save Wizard Howl from his impending doom, saving the kingdom of Ingary, and all in one go.

(He hadn't had the time to end his tales, as terrified mothers, aunts, or sisters shrieked, "There's a _floating FIRE! _Get the children away!", to which he promptly escaped, grinning insolently at the shocked women screaming like a bunch of banshees. Meanwhile, the children rolled their eyes and looked at their caretaker with half-lidded eyes, sarcasm written all over their face. "What? As if it could be something else but a fire…"

And Sophie could not help but notice the orange flame had inherited, as much as he'd deny it later, Howl's insolent and very frustrating slithering ways…)

And as he was gone for the day, the Witch having escaped into town for some kind of 'window shopping' (which meant 'candy eye hunting'), Sophie and Howl were left together alone.

If you could define alone as being in an overcrowded place with laughing children, gossiping women, flirting men, and a whole bunch of other special individuals entertaining people, such as fire breathers, acrobats, equilibrists, stilt walkers, and whatnot, then yes; they were alone.

Which meant for Howl he had another (if not risky) opportunity to kiss Sophie.

He tried to hide his intentions as best as he could, but the wizard had an inkling what he had tried to achieve the other day anchored the suspicion into Sophie's pretty head. Yet, he could not help but enjoy the view of her button nose, lovely coffee eyes, round and healthy cheeks tinting whenever he grinned at her too widely for too long, or how her pale white dress, adorned with pastel pink stripes on the puffy elbow-length sleeves and the flaring skirts, and the pink bodice made her figure look almost angelic.

Just like a candy waiting to be eaten.

He caught her eyes straying in his direction, and winked at her, for good measures. She rolled her shiny brown orbs, but the color of her dress couldn't conceal the way her cheeks reddened when he mouthed, 'I love you'.

It was a foreign matter for both man and woman, and yet, in the dark of the night, these three little words escaped their lips so easily, and so sweetly, it was a wonder they weren't always professing their devotion and feelings to each other.

Or maybe it was due to something called 'embarrassment'?

They didn't grasp it, yet they would. It only took time. Lots and lots of time.

Too bad for them Howl was horribly impatient and slapdash. (It didn't mean, though, that he'd rush their relationship just because he wanted answers, right there and right now.) Otherwise, Sophie was quite happy with the pace of their romance, as it taught Howl to learn to wait for the right moment, and for her to not be the shy mouse she once used to be.

For example, sometimes, she'd go and kiss deliberately Howl on the cheek. It wasn't an overly long smooch, but a sweet peck on the cheek, which managed to actually make Howl flush slightly, the tip of his ears an interesting shade of soft pink (softer than the color of her dress). She could still recall the flabbergasted and surprised expression on his face the first time she dared to do this, and a smile adorned her face in remembrance.

"Thosh cakshes are feally food."

She looked at Howl, an eyebrow lifting in confusion, until she realized the fiend was eating _her _chocolate cake. She puffed her cheeks in mock anger and slight irritation, but also to taunt his own full cheeks, pouting lips and wide, honest-looking eyes, giving him the look of an adorable puppy.

He munched on the mellow pastry, and swallowed loudly, and both burst laughing at their childish antics. She even snorted at him when he choked on his own saliva, deeming it his fault for being in this position. Yet, she held out a comforting hand, caressing his back. She knew hitting someone who was choking on food or anything else could make it go even lower in the person's throat, and do more bad than good. When Howl's half-choked coughs subsided, she patted him gently between his shoulders, and retracted her hand back to its rightful place in her laps.

But Howl caught it before it was too far away, and held it to _his _laps, mumbling, "You'll be the bane of my existence; first my hair, my castle, now my fun…"

She snorted again disbelievingly at him, trying to snake out her hand from his grasp. Howl looked up at her, and a half-frown began to form on his forehead. Before she had the chance to ask him what was wrong, he said, "You have cake frosting on the corner of your mouth."

Trusting his words, and blushing at this unexpected situation, Sophie made a go for a napkin folded neatly under her plate, to ensure it wouldn't fly away. She twisted her body around to reach it, but it was impossible for her to do so as Howl tugged insistently at the member he was holding. She turned her head to him, torso still twisted around helplessly, but found his face closer, much, _much_ closer than it had been seconds ago.

Once again, her eyes widened at his impromptu action, but Howl had this faraway, yet heated, gleam in his eyes, which turned a stormy shade of blue, with hints of gray, and made her reconsider the thought of pushing him away instantly. His hand rose to her face, thumb brushing away the (inexistent) frosting on her lips, and then, he cupped her face, fingers grazing gently her porcelain skin.

She licked her lips nervously, not knowing what else to do in this case. Her mind was telling her they were in public, and her heart retorted that no one would find it weird for a couple to kiss if they kept it chaste and short. She tugged her trapped hand again, and it came loose, allowing Howl to frame her face in his other hand, encasing visage in strong, capable, surprisingly calloused, yet firm and gentle hands.

Admonishing herself for not thinking things through and through (a nasty habit she had developed trying to rectify her mistakes) when she retrieved her own hand, Sophie's eyes averted from Howl's intense stare, looking at the sleeves hanging on his arm. It was folded and creased by gravity, as his elbow bended at a certain angle to near his chair and body to her. It uncovered a pale arm, yet more tanned than her own, and she couldn't help but notice it was less thin the first time she held it under her fingers, when Howl proposed to escort her to Césari's. At the time, he had called her his 'Sweetheart' to deter the soldiers who had scared her, as the wizard didn't know her name was–

"Sophie."

An agreeably pleasant shudder shocked her, and she shut her eyes at the tone; a passive, yet ardent passion reverberating through the sound of his hushed voice. It felt more like the mix of a command and a plea than just the wording of her name, and Sophie thought nobody could make her quiver on place by uttering her six-lettered name but Howl himself.

She felt one of his hands move, delving into the mass of her silver hair, and he repeated her name again, with more confidence and strength. The sound rolled pleasantly in her earlobes, goosebumps rising on her arms at the melodious and husky breathless voice. And for some odd reasons, she felt some warmth over her eyes, and something soft brushed over them, pressing gently against her closed eyelids.

It was only the telltale warm breath exhaling and trailing over her skin which made Sophie realize Howl had just kissed her eyelids. This close, she inhaled his wonderful smell; a tint of mint and sandalwood, and she wondered absentmindedly how Howl's mouth would taste (probably of the chocolate he had just eaten, yet she wanted to be sure and find out). She leaned closer unconsciously, trying to obtain another whiff of his scent, but Howl seemed to have taken this as a sign to kiss her (which she didn't mind in the slightest).

His arm flexed, jerking her head to his in a swift movement, and then–

"Ahem."

Calcifer.

Howl frowned deeply, annoyed another occasion slipped through his hands and he turned to the orange ball of flame with the most neutral face he could muster in his disgruntled state, but the demon wasn't moved by this; he had survived dripping angry aunts and women, green slime tantrums, and practically raised a kid by himself, he could handle this. "Sorry to intrude, but your kid's about to be abducted by a bunch of old ladies looking for their grandkid."

And he flew off, having done the damage.

Sophie flew from her chair, happy to have the excuse to leave Howl for a second to recollect herself, but right now, she had to focus on saving little Markl. "Excuse me, but this child isn't your _granddaughter,_" Howl heard her say, and as soon as she was horded by many old ladies, he decided to cut the act, slapping some bills on the table for the cake and saving his beloved woman and apprentice from a growing misunderstanding which added a headache to his already bad heartache.

.

The second time Howl Jenkins tried to kiss Sophie Hatter… ended in failure.

. . . ~ o ~ . . .

The third time Howl Jenkins tried to kiss Sophie Hatter…

They were dancing. The King had promised a huge festivity on Midsummer Day _if_, and only if, Howl accepted his summons and graced them all with his presence. Problem was, the wizard had no intention of going to the celebration, as he knew it was an excuse for Sulliman to talk to him some more and try to bring him to the King's side (she was no ordinary old lady, she was cunning and clever, and somewhat a little twisted, beyond what words could mean and be understood as). Besides, there was another issue the party brought;

Dancing matters.

It was in a cute and shy manner that Sophie pointed out she could not dance to save her life. She said that she had been blessed with two left feet, and Howl laughed a rich laugh, throwing back his head in mirth. At her nervous frown, he stopped instantly, and taking her hands in his, assured her he'd cure her of her illness.

Sophie looked torn between being amused at his odd wording or indignant at the fact he had stated her inexperience in parties and their formal protocol (dancing) as an illness, but before she could protest, he had swept her in a myriad of green creases and underskirts with a dashing rogue grin on his face.

And she gulped at the weird gleam in his eyes, foreboding of something she was not going to enjoy. (But _he _would, he always did whenever he was in control of plans or knew what she didn't, as if enjoying her confused expressions and slightly mocking her).

And there they were, silently spinning, creating a new routine as their bodies moved to the rhythm of a mute music, only heard by both of them. Unlike what she had affirmed earlier, Sophie proved to be an excellent dancer, as Howl twirled her around by holding her right above her head, and pushing her waist gently with his other hand to make her complete an entire circle and a half.

When the motion was done, he held her against his chest, wrapping his arms over her waist in such a fashion her own arms were crossed over her torso. He could feel her ribcage expand and deflate fast, as she took in large breaths. Meanwhile, he whispered in her ear, "five, six, seven, and eight…" brushing a silent kiss to the sensitive skin and taking her back in the action before she could react to his affection.

She was looking with those wide, brown eyes, and then, a gasp escaped her lips as he pulled her to him, bodies flush together. She was waltzed around the field once more, and closed her eyes in delight as the warm air leaving his mouth in spicy puffs teased her earlobes and the upper part of her neck.

They flowed smoothly across the green lands, not stopping for a second to care about anything else but their rhythmic stances. A step to the right, rotate to the left by about a foot's length, three steps to the left, rotate right, and repeat. Once this was done, Howl would hold Sophie about the length of his elbow by letting his hands glide over her arms until they grasped her fingers, before he stepped forward quickly, wrapping his right around her lithe waist and dipping her, catching her left hand before it fell.

She looked at him breathlessly, surprised, but smiled at the action, and he couldn't help the goofy grin from crawling on his face at her reaction. He pulled her up, and she laughed in happiness at the little trick he had done.

"Where did you learn how to do that!" she exclaimed in bliss, trying to contain her laughs for a moment – by placing both hands on her mouth and biting her smiling lips – to hear his explanation.

He pulled her close and answered nonchalantly, "Oh, there and there. Back in the Academy, we always threw horrible parties at the end of the year to celebrate the end of exams and school."

She cocked her head to the side, clearly interested. "It must have been fun, then. Won't you tell me some more?"

This time, he grinned, pecking her on the forehead, "I'm afraid," he began deliberately slow, "that _this _is confidential information, my dear. And how about your blessed left feet? They seemed to dance so wonderfully today."

It felt like he was mocking her, using this kind of complex words and trying to make her read between the lines. But she understood that he didn't want to elaborate on the subject, and let it fall on the ground.

She grasped his stout shoulders, and stood on her tiptoes, trying to reach a respectable height compared to him. "I remember when I was little, Dad taught me some moves, but I guess it's because I always stood on his shoes and let him lead. I must have recalled one of his advices." She had that faraway look, recalling the distant past and happy memories with her father, and Howl stayed unusually silent, taking in the part of Sophie he did not know of yet.

"But… I'm glad _you're _teaching me. I don't think anyone else would have worked," she said brightly, and he smiled back in response, fingering starlight wisps wistfully.

He whispered. "Maybe it was a matter of having the right partner. Besides your dad and me, you don't look like the dancing type." She scoffed at him at the small return of his vanity, and turned away, a mocking haughty mask on her visage, but as she turned back to him, an odd look lit up his eyes, shining in a quizzical, yet mischievous, allure.

"Sophie? I wondered if I could try this new move with you."

She nodded, her lips parting to ask a question which he swallowed greedily (as well as her gasp of surprise) as he swooped down to kiss her squarely on the mouth, immediately closing his eyes. She blinked many times (he could feel her eyelashes on his skin), but her orbs shut tightly as well as tension build slightly in her body. His hand delved into her hair and the other gripped her waist to bring her to him, but he still left a certain distance as he was sure it was her first kiss, and he could feel her body somewhat still rigid.

Gradually, she mellowed and melted against him and tiny spots crawled all over his body in pleasing delight as her body was warm and brushed against his natural angles, her small arms wrapping timidly, as if she was confused as to where to throw them, around his neck in a loose embrace. Both their heart pounded madly against their chest, trying to reach for one another as their lips stayed sweetly where they were, not looking to deepen the kiss, yet already content with the myriad of sensations the meeting of their mouths.

Electricity ran through almost every fiber of their beings, and this seemed to shock Sophie out of her haze from Lalaland and back on Ingary's grounds as she pulled back, their lips departing without a sound. Their lips were parted and both were panting, even though no actual effort was made. It was their hearts banging crazily which left them so breathless, as well as all the emotions which jolted at once; a mix of electricity, seductive and yet gentle warmth spreading from head to toes, and the fireworks sparkling on the tip of their hands, fizzling through their torso and bursting in soft pops just behind their eyelids.

Howl stared at Sophie, taking in the sight of her flushed face, bright twinkling half-lidded eyes, which gazed back at him dreamily and somewhat in a confused fashion. She looked absolutely lovely, and ravishing. He let temptation get the best of him as he leaned down for another short, quick kiss (to which, he rejoiced, she responded sweetly by tilting her head up and hiding her eyes behind creamy eyelids) caressing her lips for a second and pulling back again. Then, he grinned at her and let out a slow breath.

"I guess this is the best dancing move anyone in the world could have invented," he whispered, as if he was afraid of breaking an invisible barrier, a sort of bubble around them preventing the world from interrupting their moment. She nodded again, love bubbling in her eyes, and she hid her face in his neck, hiding her blushing face, while he wrapped his arms around her and hid his face in her silver hair, smelling the scent of roses in the starlight strands. He then waited for their heart to slow down, which took a considerable amount of time.

"It is…" she responded slowly, then asked, "Howl?" He made an agreeing sound.

"Could we try this again, sometimes?"

He almost choked on his own saliva as she whispered these words but he recovered quickly, laughing brightly.

"Of course, Sophie, dear. Every day, if you want."

The third time Howl Jenkins tried to kiss Sophie Hatter… ended in success.

. . . ~ o ~ . . .

No matter what, no matter when, no matter where, there was an undeniable truth following Howl Jenkins and Sophie Jenkins.

"Always believe in your happily ever after, and love one another unconditionally."

.

.

.

.

* * *

_Fiiniiiiisss, and I'm so happpyyyyyy :DDD_

_Thank you all (once more), for the faves, reviews, follows, and such! This is officially the end of my first long multi-chaptered fic, and I'm glad it was in this fandom. I hope though, that you'll all forgive me for the late update, and enjoy this 6k words chappie :3_

_ Don't forget to check out my other stories for some good ol' Howl/Sophie fluff, alright? :)_

_Thank you once more, and I hope to see you all again for another HMC fiction on the way someday!_

_Happy days :D_

_'Melia, saluting to y'all. :3_

* * *

**OMAKE:**

"Sophie, dear. This last sentence was incredibly cheesy, even coming from you..."

Sputters.

"And _what _exactly do you mean by that, Howell Jenkins?"

Silence.

"Do you have to always call me by this unflattering name, darling? It is such a plain and old word too..."

Sigh.

"Well, it is more for Howl's comfort than yours Howell, besides, when will you learn to _be-have _when we have guests over? Now, Howl, Sophie, would you care to show us your flying castle next time?"

Brilliant smile.

"Of course! Thank you for hosting us, Sophie, Howell. Oh, and Sophie? I love your hair color: it's such a precious shade of red!"

Reciprocate smile.

"Sophie, you know? I wouldn't have minded if you dyed my hair _that _color instead of the horrible tangerine orange."

Facepalm.

"Howl? Can you please get over this already? You're going to hurt Markl's feelings."

"It's okay, Sophie, I know I'm irresistible either way."

Sigh.

"Why do we love these pompous wizards again?"

"We love you too, Sophie!"

**THE END. (FOR REAL).**

* * *

_In case you were confused as to who was talking;_

_Book-Howl_

_Book-Sophie_

_Book-Howl_

_Book-Sophie_

_Movie-Sophie_

_Movie-Howl_

_Movie-Sophie_

_Movie-Howl_

_Both book and movie Sophies._

_Both book and movie Howls._

_**:3**  
_

_**Bye-bye. :)**_


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